


Drag you down

by dyonisia96



Series: All that's left [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Imprisonment, Medical Experimentation, Poor Sans (Undertale), Sans trying to make him reason, Thank God Papyrus is there to help, Trust Issues, W. D. Gaster Being An Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-12-26 08:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18279416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyonisia96/pseuds/dyonisia96
Summary: Sans wakes up in the lab and discovers that Gaster's paranoia has gone just a tiny bit too far. The doctor is determined to make him and Papyrus more powerful, so that they will be able to fight humans when monsters will reach the Surface. However, Gaster doesn't seem to be able to understand that forcing someone to be what they are not isn't good to keep friendships healthy, and that, maybe, Sans and Papyrus are not so eager to become his two warriors. Everyone has their limits, and even Sans' patience has one.





	1. Gaster's unscripted experiment

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you'll like the "Gaster Arc" I've planned for this story I had stuck in my mind for quite a while. I just have to get it out, so I thought it could be interesting to share it here on ao3 too, and not only on my DA profile. Wrap yourself in a comfy blanket and follow me into angst hell.

A smell of disinfectant hit Sans’ nasal cavity, making him wince in disgust. Where the hell was he? He couldn’t really remember. His mind was foggy, his thoughts like scrambled eggs. _Eggs_. God, he was so hungry. When was the last time he had eaten something worth of the “food” title?

_Why is everything dark in here?_ he asked himself, before realizing that his eye sockets were still closed shut. Sans would have laughed at his own mental confusion in another situation, but something, deep down in his non-existent guts, was telling him that he should’ve been a lot more worried about what was going on around him.

Even though he was a big fan of napping on every flat surface he encountered in his everyday life, the deep, languid feeling in his bones was really starting to worry him. His breathing was far too shallow, and the slow thumps of his soul far too weak. He had to get up and check what the hell was wrong with him. Now.

_c’mon. get up now, you lazy slob._

But his body didn’t respond. He felt like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Weak. Helpless.

The jolt of panic in his soul was enough to revive him a little, and Sans was finally able to open his eye sockets.

For a moment, the soft green light on the ceiling blinded him, but the white dots in his eye sockets soon adapted to the sudden change. Sans was finally able to look around, his mind trying to process his surroundings.

He was lying down on a bed so soft that seemed to engulf him completely, making him barely able to move his fingers. Or maybe that sensation of being trapped in his own body was due to the bag of translucent liquid directly connected to his left arm, in which someone had fiercely dug a thick needle, strong enough to pass through the bone and pierce the marrow. Whatever there was into that bag, that was the reason why thinking was so goddamn hard. Sans slowly lifted his right hand, his fingers stumbling between the covers, and, with the biggest effort in his whole life, he started to work with the duct tape who secured the needle onto his arm. His fingers were so clumsy, and that made him groan in both frustration and fear.

Whatever was going on, it wasn’t right. Not at all. The room he was in, it wasn’t his, and it didn’t look like one of the cozy little rooms of the hospital in New Home. Usually places were monsters were comfortable weren’t so devoid of furniture and, above all, windows. The only objects in the room were the bed, the support onto which the transparent bag had been hung, and a small, metallic table on which lied a series of pills, syringes and other medical instruments that looked weirdly familiar, especially the shiny scalpel on the right side of the table. That scalpel was deeply – _deeply_ – disturbing. It made something twist and turn inside Sans’ chest. Something that was screaming at him between all the fog in his mind, telling him to get the heck outta there.

But the more he remembered, the more his fingers became unsteady, unable to undo the devil’s work that had attached the needle to his arm. That stupid duct tape! He had always hated it. Who would’ve thought that he would’ve died because of something so dumb.

“Death by duct tape.”

As if he hadn’t already been pathetic enough.

His soul was now pounding so heavily that it excluded every other sound from his mind.

“c’mon…” he whispered, his voice so high-pitched and desperate that it almost made him break down entirely. “please… just give me this one…”

He didn’t even know who he was talking to. But, somehow, he finally managed to untie the duct tape.

Sans let out a shaky, tiny laugh, that transformed into a whimper, when he sloppily extracted the needle out of his arm. He slumped on the bed, breathing heavily, the noise his soul deafening. Welp, the easy part was over. Now, he only had to walk to the door, hoping that it was open, and get out of there.

Being freed from the narcotics that had kept him lying on that bed for he didn’t even know how long had been a relief, but their effect was still strong. Sans ungracefully slid down the bed, ending up on the floor in a little bag of bones and covers. He used the metallic support on the bed’s side as a crutch and walked on shaky legs until he reached the sink. He was so thirsty. That had to be one of the sedatives’ negative side effects.

After drinking some water, he felt a little bit more lucid. His memories started floating back, and his soul almost gave up then and there.

Now he remembered exactly where he was and _why_ , and his bones started shaking with fear.

_Gaster_. It was Gaster the one who drugged him. His old friend, his best friend… had done _this_ to him. Gaster had mumbled something about how important it was for Sans and Papyrus to be able to defend themselves against humans, and that, if they weren’t able to do it on their own, he was going to force them to learn.

“Don’t you get it?” Gaster’s words echoed in Sans’ mind, while the tiny monster was clutching at his chest, as if they were hurting more deeply than any needle Gaster could’ve stuck into him. “Humans are violent, and evil. The only way to fight them is to beat them at their own game. And you, my friend, are far too soft and weak. If a human had fallen here and tried to kill you, you would be a pile of dust. So it is my duty as the royal scientist and, above all, as your friend, to take care of you. I’m baffled that you would take my deep worry as some kind of offense, really. Why don’t… why don’t you understand? I’m just trying to _protect_ you! You’re the one who’s making everything difficult. The magic I’m going to give you is going to prove itself nothing but useful!”

What Gaster saw in him was a weak monster, both physically and mentally, a ball of soft-hearted clumsiness, unable to protect itself from the cruelty of mankind. Someone who needed to toughen the hell up, because right now he was nothing but an easy pick for the wolves out there. But how could Gaster not realize that, right now, he was the scary wolf who was gnawing at his bones, chipping away every will to live that he had to begin with?

Sans swallowed, trying to calm himself down. He was going to think about the indelible mental scarring Gaster had provided him later. Now, he had to get out.

Sans tried to open the door, and he almost melted in relief, when it opened without any effort or noise. The little skeleton was greeted by a dark hallway. Greenish neon lights pierced the darkness. That side made him wheeze: Sans felt like a side character in a cheesy horror movie, who was going to die as soon as he turned the angle. He surely hadn’t the stamina to run to begin with, but right now, all weak and scared, he wasn’t even going to have the strength to scream for his life. It would’ve been a rather disappointing ending without a scream. He wasn’t even able to play the victim right.

Sans laughed a little, trying to suppress the hysterical attack piercing at his soul, and walked down the corridor, trying to understand where the exit was. He turned left with his soul in his throat, expecting to see Gaster emerging from the darkness like a demented boogieman, wielding a syringe in his right hand and a disappointed expression on his face – “Sans, I thought you promised to help me, no matter what. Are you going to back out?”.

Yes! God, yes! He was backing the hell out.

When Sans had promised to help Gaster, he would’ve never thought that the doctor was going to bring his promise to such extremes. That stonehearted bastard had even tried to make him feel guilty, for not being more than enthused at the prospect of giving himself up for science.

“I’m just trying to help you. And this is how you repay me?”, Gaster had said more than once, ignoring Sans’ pleas of letting him and Papyrus go.

Wait a minute.

_papyrus!_

Sans felt himself sink, and his head started spinning. His brother. How could have he _forgot_ about his dear brother?

He was down there too, somewhere. He had to be. The last time he had seen Papyrus, it had been in the cell Gaster had locked them in. What happened after that was hazed, but Sans clearly remembered trying to talk some sense into Gaster’s thick head.

“please, g… doc, I understand that you’re worried, but this isn’t the right way to do things. you can’t just trap us down here because you’re afraid of what might happen to us! please… we’re f-friends. you can’t do this. you can’t decide at our place. you hafta let us do what we believe’s right.”

Gaster’s dry response had been: “That’s not going to happen. Not when what you believe will get you killed.”

Sans had no idea how much time had passed since that day. How long Gaster had kept him on that bed, sedating him, reducing him to an almost vegetative state, just in the _remote_ chance that a human could hurt him. Gaster was so absorbed into his own world-view, into his fear of losing his only friends, that he ended up being the one who was hurting them, and in far more twisted ways than a human could ever think of.

Sans swallowed again, grasping at his crutch so tightly that his fingers squeaked on the metal.

He couldn’t leave without Papyrus. There was no way he was going to abandon his brother. Gaster wasn’t going to take the last sliver of dignity Sans still had. Gaster still hadn’t scared Sans enough to convince him to sacrifice Papyrus for his safety. After all, Sans had always valued his brother’s life above his, and that still hadn’t changed. Because, even if he got out of the lab, if it wasn’t without Papyrus, his existence wouldn’t have had much meaning anyway.

Sans mustered up some courage and finally resumed walking, trying to not make a sound. The hallways were getting darker and darker, as if they had been the bowels of an enormous beast that was going to eat him whole.

Sans squeezed his eyes shut at the thought, fear grasping his soul. He couldn’t panic. He wasn’t going to panic. He had to calm down. But it was so hard to think and keep it together. The only thing he really wanted was to curl up into a ball to try to soothe himself. But he couldn’t. He had to find Papyrus. He wasn’t going to leave him. He wasn’t.

Sans managed to get the thumping of his soul under control. The thought of his brother still imprisoned somewhere in that nightmarish building was enough to push him forward.

Sans carefully listened for any signs of life, stopping outside every metallic door of the hallway. Where could Gaster have put Papyrus? If his brother was in the same state of Sans, he wasn’t going to be able to answer to his call, nor to give him a notice of his whereabouts.

He could’ve been anywhere, and the place was far too big for Sans to explore without being noticed. Gaster had certainly seen him, by now. He had cameras _everywhere_. He was going to get Sans and put him under his control once again.

The desperation he was trying to keep at bay was finally taking over him, making him rattle and shiver, transforming his thoughts into an entangled mess. He would’ve just collapsed on the floor, despite his intention of finding Papyrus and saving him, if he hadn’t seen a light coming from the end of the hallway.

“Wha…?”

Sans covered his mouth with his hand. He had to keep quiet. The little skeleton left his crutch behind and walked towards the door on the tip of his toes. He got onto his knees and applied one of his eye sockets to the keyhole of the door. The light had been coming from there.

That had to be Gaster’s secret room. A secondary study room, where he kept his most personal projects. _Or his most mangled ones_ , Sans thought, with a tight smile. Surely, this side of the lab was filled with things Gaster didn’t want the other lab-workers to see.

The room was really small, its walls covered in notes and tables filled with writings about human and monster souls, analyses about their respective traits and how compatible they could be. The desk in the front of the room was filled with Gaster’s papers, covered in his organized and cryptic handwriting. On the left and the right sides of the room, there were weird specimens of which Sans absolutely didn’t want to know the origin… and that was it. The doctor was nowhere to be seen.

Sans instinctively turned to look behind his shoulders, fearing that Gaster had been watching at him with a smug smile on his face, waiting to make a dramatic entrance like he always did, or to terrify the soul out of Sans.

Sans didn’t want to enter that study. It felt like stepping into Gaster’s territory, and that somehow the old, crazy monster could’ve popped out of nowhere to capture him.

_oh my god, did he manage to turn me into a five year old? he’s not the boogieman. he’s not all-knowing and all-seeing. i can do this without him noticing!_

**_But what if he gets you? He’s going to be VERY angry. And remember what he did when he was angry? You’re lucky that you didn’t overdose already. He gets a little generous with his narcotics, when he’s mad._ **

_well, if that happens, so be it. at least i won’t hafta listen to his crap anymore. but i have to check what’s in here. maybe there’s info about papy. maybe gaster noted his location. he’s a maniac, but he’s well organized, so i’d be surprised if he didn’t._

With that, Sans finally convinced himself to enter the room. He felt like entering a tomb, but he shooed the feeling away. He was doing it for Paps. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t still scared out of his skull.

Sans rummaged through the papers, searching for something useful. He had always been good at reading Wingdings. That had been one of the reasons why Gaster had taken him into his crew, at the beginning. _Well, ain’t I a lucky skele._

Sans grew more and more frustrated. C’mon, there had to be something about them!

And then, he caught a glimpse of orange with his eye. He turned, and realized that there was indeed information about Papyrus in the room. And not only about him.

“you’re more far gone than I thought, doc” Sans whispered, looking at the posters of his and Papyrus’ whole anatomy on the walls. There were details about their physical structure and, in particular, about their souls.

Gaster’s writing was precise as always, ordered in those tiny symbols Sans had grown to hate.

The little skeleton got closer to the posters and followed the handwriting with his index, trying to decipher it. Gaster’s notes were bare bones, as if he had chosen only a few key words, instead of describing everything in detail, making it harder to understand them.

“Compatibility: 90%. Orange/Green soul. Traits: Bravery, Kindness. Kindness main trait, but not suited for fighting.”

That was what the notes said about Papyrus. So, his main trait was kindness, but Gaster – _of course_ , thought Sans, gritting his teeth – thought that kindness was another mean of getting yourself killed by a human, so it had to go straight to the trashcan.

And then, there it was, the information he needed.

“Room 004. Basement.”

That was Papyrus’ location. It didn’t have to be very far. Sans checked his own table to have a confirmation: “Room 087. Basement.” The fact that they were on the same floor was a relief. At least he didn’t have to search the whole building. It had to be night outside, and seeing the lab all empty made it even more chilling, besides not having anyone around who could hear his screams for help.

Sans told himself to go looking for Papyrus, but, since something deep inside of him wanted to see what Gaster had in store for him - even though it hurt so badly observing his whole being displayed like the insides of a lab rat on that stupid chart - he stopped and looked through his analysis.

“Compatibility: 95%. Blue/Yellow soul. Traits: Patience, Justice. Main trait, Patience. It may prove useful in fight, but the Justice trait has to be pushed more.”

Sans’ marrow was boiling with anger. “It may prove _useful_ ”. That cold language made him almost have a rage fit. But, as Gaster himself had pointed out, his main trait was patience. So _much_ patience. And Sans, in the end, let the anger go. It wasn’t worth it.

Gaster didn’t even make him angry anymore. He felt just… sad. He was a sad, dumb idiot. A part of him, even after all that bastard had done, was still thinking that maybe he didn’t _mean_ it. That maybe, just maybe… he was redeemable.

Sans felt ridiculous just for thinking that, and sighed deeply. The Room 004 was waiting for him.

 

It was getting easier to think, but the prolonged use of sedatives and the lack of proper food was taking its toll on Sans.

He was very close to Papyrus’ room, but his body was telling him that he hadn’t much time left. He was going to collapse, even if he was determined not to give in to the weakness in his wobbling knees and the feeling of sinking in his chest.

That part of the lab was a little less creepy – even though, according to Gaster’s standards, it still seemed like it came out from a bad remake of Frankenstein. There were less emergency machines, and Sans realized that, for him being so deep down into the lab, Gaster probably had roughed him up to the point of requiring more drastic measures to keep Sans alive. The little skeleton didn’t remember what Gaster had done to him under the influence of narcotics, but it had to be something terrible, for leaving him so utterly exhausted.

Sans opened the door to take a peek inside, and his soul gave a little, happy thump. There he was.

Sans slide inside the room and reached his brother’s bed. Sans’ breathing was getting shallow again, his chin attracted to his chest by an invisible force. He felt _so_ weak.

Sans shook his head to stay awake and put a hand on Papyrus’ shoulder.

His brother made a little jump.

“DR. FENSTER, DON’T WAKE ME UP LIKE THAT! WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT CREEPING ON PEOPLE? THAT’S VERY… bad...” Papyrus stared at him for a moment, as if Sans had been a ghost. Then realization enlightened his face, and Papyrus squeezed Sans into a tight hug. “SANS! SANS, OH MY GOD, I THOUGHT YOU… I THOUGHT… DR. PESTER SAID THAT YOU WERE IN VERY BAD SHAPE! THAT MAYBE… maybe… you weren’t going to… WELL, IT DOESN’T MATTER NOW! YOU’RE GOOD! You’re good, right, brother?”

Sans let out a little laugh. Oh, he had missed him so much. Just feeling Papyrus’ warm presence was enough to make him feel safe.

“yea… yea, ‘m good. just a little… shaky…”

“YOU’RE ALL SWEATY. AND YOU’RE… YOU’RE BLEEDING!”

Sans frowned, and looked down at his arm. Oh. Maybe he had been a little rougher than he had thought, while extracting that cursed needle out of himself.

Well. It couldn’t be helped now.

“told ya m’fine” he whispered. His voice was thin, barely there. He was starting to slip away. “we… we hafta get out… gaster… doesn’t know that ‘m here.” Sans grabbed Papyrus’ hand, trying to get him to follow.

“Sans, you can’t even walk. You’re… you’re HP is really low.”

“bro, who cares… we hafta get out before he comes back!”

Sans frowned again, hit by a sudden thought.

“your… your door was open. why… why didn’t ya leave?”

Papyrus looked at him as if Sans had started to dance on a table.

“I WASN’T GOING TO LEAVE WITHOUT YOU. BESIDES, DR.LOBSTER SAID THAT, IF I TRIED TO LEAVE, HE WOULD’VE… WELL… AGAIN, THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT! NOW THAT YOU’RE HERE, WE CAN LEAVE.” Papyrus patted Sans’ head in a loving gesture, and Sans felt his marrow boil a second time. Gaster had blackmailed Papyrus with Sans’ life. He was sure of it. That was… really low of him. Even lower than using Sans as his test subject. “BUT, BEFORE WE LEAVE, YOU NEED SOMETHING TO EAT, BROTHER.”

Papyrus picked him up like a puppy and looked through the drawers of his nightstand.

Sans couldn’t believe it. “wha… papy, this’s not the moment! i told ya ‘m fine! let’s get out of here first and THEN we can think about my… my heal…”

Sans suddenly felt ill and had to cling onto Papyrus. For a moment, he felt as if he had been falling down. Who could have guessed, his brother had been right. Sans wasn’t going to make it out of there, without something in his belly. His HP had to be nearing _not-going-back_ levels.

Sans suddenly felt something in his mouth, and chewed it without thinking. It was sweet. Very slowly, he came back to his senses.

“THERE YOU GO” said Papyrus, smiling at him. He seemed to be happy, but his eye sockets were a little too wet. “FEELING BETTER?”

Sans let out a disjointed grumble. Then, he tried again.

“yea… i… i felt myself sinking for a moment…”

Papyrus held him with care, putting Sans’ head on his shoulder.

“YEAH, I KNOW WHAT YOUR EUPHEMISMS MEAN, BROTHER! NO SINKING UNTIL THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HERE!”

Sans smiled a little in hearing himself being scolded – it was almost like being at home.

“NOW, WE CAN LEAVE. I HAVE SOME MORE CANDY HERE. JUST PUT SOMETHING IN YOUR STOMACH, BROTHER.”

“bro, I don’t even have a stoma-“

Sans’ feeble attempt at a joke was cut short by more sweetness being shoved into his mouth. He meekly accepted it, chewing the candy. He was already feeling less light-headed. The warmth in Papyrus’ sweater was so… so comfortable.

“I’LL GET US OUT OF HERE, BROTHER. YOU’VE BEEN REALLY BRAVE. YOU CAN REST A LITTLE, NOW.”

Sans was barely aware that Papyrus was now walking through the hallways, looking for the exit. _c’mon, lazybones. you hafta help him._

“paps… the exit should be near…”

Sans lifted his head a little, trying to open his eye sockets. He had drooled on Papyrus’ sweater while eating the candy. Great. At least he didn’t choke. He probably had blacked out for a few moments, during the way. It would’ve been really anticlimactic as a death… before, death by duct tape, and now, death by candy. Only his trashy self could manage to do such things.

“We’re here, brother” whispered Papyrus. That was the quietest Sans had ever heard his brother. He had to be really scared. As for Sans, now that Papyrus was there, he wasn’t afraid anymore. The worst was over. They were getting out of there. “But I can’t get this… this cursed door to open. It requires some kind of secret word to work.”

_Of course_. Of course it couldn’t be easy. Of course there had to be something-

“lemme see it.”

Papyrus delicately put Sans on the ground, sustaining him with his hands under his armpits.

The password screen was waiting. Sans’ vision was a little cloudy, but he could see enough… and he could also type, if his fingers started to respond to his demands.

He tiredly lifted his hands and placed them on the keyboard.

“uh… what could a science maniac obsessed with himself use as a password?” asked Sans, smiling a little.

“I DON’T KNOW. MAYBE IT’S “I AM VERY GREAT”, OR SOMETHING.”

“nah, you’re the great one, here. even _he_ knows that.”

“Sans, I’m very flattered, but this isn’t the time for complimenting me. As much as I appreciate it.”

Sans chuckled a little and tried to insert Gaster’s birthday date.

Nothing.

“well… that’s surprising. maybe…”

He tried with the creation date of the Determination project. Then with the Soul Trait project, the one that ended up with Sans and Papyrus trapped in the lab’s bowels… the one that had been Sans’ oh so brilliant suggestion.

No. Nothing.

Sans’ hands were trembling. What could it be? He didn’t have many tries left. If he reached the attempts’ limit, the computer was going to block him for thirty minutes… and they didn’t have _thirty minutes_. Gaster could be back at any time, and Sans didn’t want to think about what was going to happen, if he had caught them in the act of escaping. The doctor was mentally unstable, to say the least.

“HM. LET ME TRY, BROTHER.”

“papyrus, i don’t think that…”

“DON’T YOU TRUST ME?”

“o-of course, but-“

_You’re not exactly a science-y guy_ , would’ve said Sans, but Papyrus cut him short, and typed something before Sans could decipher it.

The main door of the basement let out a deep “HSSSSSS” and opened before Sans’ incredulous eye sockets. He looked at Papyrus, who proudly puffed out his chest.

“how’d you do it? What was the pass-“

“OUR NAMES, OF COURSE!”

_oh my god._

“that’s… that’s not creepy at all…”

Papyrus scooped Sans up before he could start to dwell into very creeped out thoughts, and ran towards the exit.

The road from there was a lot familiar. Sans’ knew the lab like the back of his hand, and gave indications to Papyrus.

And then, before they knew it, they exited from the back of the lab. The boiling air of Hotland, filled with the smell of sulfur, hit them hard, leaving them blinking in confusion for a brief moment, before giving in to relief.

“we’re out!” said Sans, hugging Papyrus. He let go only to look at his brother’s face, keeping one of his hands on Papyrus’ cheekbone. “you’ve been… it’s all your…”

Sans had always an answer for everything and was very good with words, but right know they had left him. He was so… so _happy_. He couldn’t even believe it. This had to be a dream, it was too good to be true.

“SANS, WHY ARE YOU CRYING? ARE YOU HURT?” Papyrus checked on him worriedly, putting a hand on his chest.

“no, ‘m fine. ‘m just…”

Sans hugged his brother again, letting himself go, and Papyrus caressed his back in a circling motion, trying to soothe his sobbing.

“IT’S… IT’S OKAY, SANS. WE’RE SAFE, NOW. THAT MEAN DR.PESTER ISN’T GOING TO HURT US ANYMORE.”

“i… i know… ‘m not scared, when you’re with me.”

 

The journey home was disorienting. They hadn’t walked the snowy streets of Snowdin in such a long time that everything seemed new. The whole town was empty. Everyone was at home, sleeping.

It was around three in the morning, when Papyrus reached their home. Sans’ mailbox was so full that it was soon going to burst, and their house looked hollow. Nobody had lived there for almost a month, by now. It was weird to see the Christmas lights turned off and the snow piling up on the porch. Papyrus tried always to keep it clean.

The tall skeleton kneeled down to search for the spare keys under the carpet, while holding Sans with one arm. His brother had sobbed silently for a good part of the road, resting his head on Papyrus’ shoulder, and then drifted into unconsciousness. When Papyrus had first saw him that night, he had almost chocked on his breath. He had never seen Sans in such a bad state: his bones of a greyish color, barely able to stay awake, cold sweat dripping down his skull. And all that blood on his arm! That Dr. Foster was going to pay for piercing his brother’s arm like he had been trying to make a flute out of it! Sans was so fragile, with his one HP. What had the doctor been thinking?

Papyrus opened the door, and closed it behind him. He breathed in deeply. Their home still smelled like spaghetti and sleepy bones. It was so heartening.

Papyrus lied Sans on the sofa, and left to put some water to boil. Skeletons were more resistant to cold than most creatures, but it still became uncomfortable for them after a while. Sans surely needed something to warm his bones and untie some knots in his joints, and maybe even the Great Papyrus was in need of some comfort.

“Hmmmnn… P… Papyrushhh?” Sans was mumbling in his sleep. “What’re you… doinnn…”

“I’M ALMOST DONE, BROTHER” said Papyrus, turning towards him, with a smile on his face.

And then, suddenly, everything shattered.

There was _someone_ leaning on the sofa. The house was still completely dark. Papyrus hadn’t turned on any lights to let Sans sleep, but, even if he couldn’t see the face of the creature near Sans, he already knew who it was.

“STAY AWAY FROM HIM!”

Papyrus’ shout was enough to wake Sans, who had let himself be tucked really firmly in his covers by the stranger.

“papy… what…?”

Sans chocked on his words, his eye sockets widening. He looked blankly at the figure holding him. He couldn’t think about anything. He was paralyzed, completely annihilated.

“You are smarter than I thought, Papyrus” Gaster said, with a gentle smile on his face. His true intentions were always difficult to read, because he hid them behind an appearance of serene kindness, that inspired people to trust him, Sans and Papyrus included. “I shouldn’t have been so sentimental with my passwords, I guess. Mistake noted. Now, let’s go back to the lab.”

“N-NO.”

Gaster turned slightly towards Papyrus. Even though his expression hadn’t changed that much, Sans could tell that he was furious: not only they had escaped from under his nose, but they were also having a temper tantrum? According to Gaster, they probably were acting like dumb children, trying to escape the care of someone who knew what was good for them.

“What did you just say?”

Papyrus, who had shrunk a little, gritted his teeth and stood his ground.

“I SAID NO. YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING ELSE TO SANS OR ME! YOU… YOU WILL GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE, RIGHT NOW, OR I’LL MAKE YOU LEAVE!”

“Oh, really?”

Gaster smiled and looked down at Sans. The little skeleton was still staring at him, vainly trying to speak. His mind was completely blank with terror, and that seemed to amuse Gaster. That look on Sans’ plump face had to be premium class chocolate for Gaster’s power trip.

The doctor caressed Sans’ head with a hand, and then turned him forcibly towards Papyrus, squeezing Sans’ cheeks.

“Look at his face. He knows you’re not getting out of this, and that I’m quite angry, right now. But, maybe, if you follow me without protesting, I’ll be more gentle. Look at your brother, Papyrus. He’s really weak. If I held him just a little bit more firmly, he would turn to dust. And you certainly don’t want to make me angrier, right? Because I tend to lose my self-control a little, when I’m in that dark, _dark_ place… and I could do something we would both regret.”

As if to highlight the concept, Gaster placed his hand on Sans’ cervical vertebrae, digging in deep enough to make him cough.

Through his blurry vision, Sans saw Papyrus’ resolve crumble, and, at that sight, he was able to gain his voice back.

“papy, no… don’t listen to ‘im… he… _hnn…_ he’s… he isn’t gonna kill me. c’mon, he did all this because…”

Gaster cut him off with one of his magical hands, covering Sans’ mouth and nasal cavity. Sans couldn’t speak anymore, and his breath was stuck in his throat.

Sans’ chest contracted in vain, searching for air, but Gaster held him tight. Gaster was a doctor, he knew how much Sans could take. Probably his goal was to make him faint. That was definitely going to make Papyrus surrender. Sans could read Gaster like a book. That… that idiot. That stupid… he was… such an idiot. Gaster already had everything from them, they used to be his friends… but now, seeing him like this, trying to get at Papyrus through Sans… that was the moment when Sans realized that there was nothing else he could do to make Gaster see reason. He was gone. Forever.

He could bear being drugged and tortured, but if it came to using Papyrus’ good nature against him, that was crossing an invisible line Sans didn’t even know he had drawn.

A moment later, he was on the ground, panting heavily. A blue and yellow light was flashing near his skull, and Gaster had been sent across the living room.

“BROTHER!”

Papyrus ran towards Sans and helped to free him from the covers. Sans kept a hand on his throat, eyes semi closed. He felt very dizzy, and something painful wriggled in his left eye socket, trying to get free, to get out.

“what the…”

The pressure became stronger and stronger, leaving him breathless again.

“papyrus! papyrus… my… my eye…!”

It hurt so damn much. And that pressure… it was as if they were trying to pry his skull open from the inside. Something cold started to bleed out from his socket. Sans touched his skull, and looked at his shaking hand. It was covered with a yellow and light blue substance. The chart. Those were the same colors, his “soul traits”. So Gaster did… he already did THAT to him.

Sans stared at Gaster, who had been struggling to get up. Gaster’s soul was visible, and tainted with blue magic. Sans didn’t know how it happened, but he knew that it was his doing, somehow.

“you… you bastard… what did… what did you do to me?” Sans’ voice came out ragged and pained. Tears were streaming down his face, and the pain in his eye was only getting stronger.

The burning ache reached a spike that took a muffled scream out of him, leaving Sans lifeless in Papyrus’ arms. His younger brother was too afraid to do anything. He didn’t know how to heal Sans. That was something beyond him. Whatever Gaster had done to Sans, it was backfiring really badly.

And Gaster, who had finally freed himself from Sans’ burst of magic, seemed to not be able to keep his composure, for once. He kneeled down in front of Sans and tried to reach for his face with trembling hands.

“Oh, gods, his body is rejecting-“

“NO! DON’T TOUCH HIM!” sobbed Papyrus. “You’ve already done enough as it is. Leave us both.”

Gaster stopped, looking at him. He seemed sincerely worried.

“If I leave now, he will die.”

Papyrus looked at Sans: his brother was delirious with pain, bleeding magic from his left eye. A magic that was too powerful to be contained in his fragile body. It was destroying him from the inside, and Papyrus couldn’t do anything about it, besides holding him tight.

Papyrus was disgusted at the prospect of relying on Gaster’s help… but he had no choice. Gaster was still a doctor. And he wasn’t going to let Sans die, if he wanted them both alive for his experiments.

“FINE. DO IT. SAVE HIM.”

That was what Gaster was waiting for. The doctor put a hand in his black coat, searching for something. He extracted a syringe containing a pink liquid.

“what’re you… doing… ain’t ya already… turned me… into a freak?” wheezed Sans. “what else you gonna d-AAAARGH!”

“PLEASE HELP HIM! GIVE HIM THAT MEDICINE NOW!” begged Papyrus.

“Lift his sweater” ordered Gaster, who looked a little, just a tiny bit uncomfortable.

_Oh, poor guy_ , thought Sans, through his suffering. **_He’s_** _the one who’s uncomfortable_.

Papyrus obeyed, exposing Sans’ ribcage. Behind it, his soul was oozing the same magical mixture.

“He shouldn’t have used this magic. He was still recovering” mumbled Gaster. He tapped lightly on the syringe, and injected the pink substance directly into Sans’ core.

The pain was so blinding that Sans completely lost track of himself for a few minutes. He had never felt such a strong, burning, _red_ sensation into his soul. It wasn’t pleasant. Not at all. But it wasn’t painful, at least. Then, he started to melt away, peacefully, into nothingness.

After so much suffering, it was a relief, to let himself go. To melt.

But then, suddenly, he heard a muffled voice call his name, and the sensation of turning into a formless pile of jelly vanished. The pain was back, weaker, but still there, throbbing in his bones, his left eye, his very soul. Every part of him was aching, as if he had been invested by a bullet train. But… he was alive.

How utterly _amazing_. Now he could be used as a lab rat again. That was truly wonderf-

“OH, BROTHER! YOU’RE ALIVE! YOU’RE ALIVE!”

Papyrus hugged him, sobbing on his chest. Oh, no. He didn’t like when Papyrus cried. It made Sans feel horrible. Well, _more_ horrible.

“every… everything’s fine” Sans managed to say. It was as if his teeth had been glued together. He could barely keep his eyes open. “’m here.”

“YOU ALMOST… YOU WERE M-MELTING…”

Sans frowned. He felt as if he was having a high fever, and wasn’t entirely sure he was completely in control of himself, right now.

He noticed that Gaster was there too. Funny. Sans had almost forgot about the doctor, while he was squirming on the floor.

“what… what did ya…” Sans said. He hadn’t enough strength to finish, but Gaster understood anyway.

“You were going to die. I had to…”

“what did…”

“I gave you some DT mixed with regular magic. It was a thing I was experimenting on lately and…” Gaster sighed. “You were melting, like _the others_ … but then you came back, and I don’t know how! It’s… impossible… but you’re here. Thank God you’re here.”

Sans blinked sluggishly. He was going to pass out soon. Too many emotions, too much fatigue. He had never, _ever_ been so tired. The feeling of emptiness and confusion he had experienced in the lab only a few hours ago paled in comparison to how crushed he was right now.

“I… I think I heard papy calling me…” whispered Sans, without thinking, while hugging his brother. “I felt like I was… slipping away. But then… I just couldn’t leave ‘im alone.”

“I’M SO HAPPY YOU DIDN’T LET GO, SANS. THANK YOU FOR COMING BACK. Thank you.”

Papyrus scooped him up, holding his little body into his arms. Even though Sans was completely drained, he was trying to stay awake. He didn’t want to pass out with Gaster within reach. They had to… escape. He had to protect Papyrus, take him away. It was all his fault if he ended up in that lab in the first place, he couldn’t just… sleep…

“gaster…” Sans whispered.

The doctor, still confused by the perplexing results of his last, unscripted experiment, lifted his gaze on him.

“gaster, please. just… leave us alone.”

And, for a moment, for a brief, minuscule moment, it almost seemed like Gaster had felt guilt. Or at least _something_.

But it was just for a moment, and it passed.

Then, as if what had just happened between them hadn’t meant anything at all, he took Sans away from Papyrus’ arms. The younger skeleton was too upset to react, too incapable of understanding how could someone possibly be so cruel, and just stood there, letting Gaster turn his soul purple. He couldn’t escape now.

“You’re coming back with me. You’re both exhausted and-“

“just shut up. please… _please_ shut up, gaster.” Sans couldn’t stand him anymore. He just couldn’t. It was all too much. _Gaster_ was too much. “I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna hear your bullshit right now. I almost died today. _Twice_. Just spare me, okay? I’ll pass out soon, so… ya don’t even hafta wait for long.”

Sans expected Gaster to hit him, but the doctor, for once, had the decency to just shut his mouth.

What a relief.

They were still going back to their cage, but at least – _at least_ \- they didn’t have to listen to him sugarcoating his actions.

It felt so satisfying to have finally succeeded in shutting him up, that Sans allowed himself to drift asleep, hoping to wake up the next day, and not after a month of pharmacologically induced coma.


	2. Soulbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self-explanatory title is self-explanatory. Something cracks under the pressure, and it's not a pipe.

Gaster was busy scribbling something on his notebook, his fingers moving so fast that they almost blurred.

Sans shifted into the magical shackles keeping him on the examination table, and, with some effort, he was able to turn his head to face the doctor. Gaster’s magic, with that purple hue, acted like a series of sticky binds; the more Sans struggled, the more they trapped him, keeping him exactly where Gaster wanted. How ironic, that the doctor acted exactly in the same way.

“how’s the writin’ goin’?” asked Sans. His voice was hoarse and barely audible. The examinations always left him bone tired. Gaster was still trying to figure out how in the world Sans had been able to survive the DT injection, however small it had been, and not being able to give an answer to that was driving him crazy. If it was possible for him to go even more bonkers than he already was. “so you still keep one of those diaries, huh? is that the one i’ve given to ya for giftmas, or…?”

“Shut up, Sans, I’m trying to work.”

“oh, he’s tryin’ to work. okay. i’ll just be quiet and behave, then.”

Gaster sighed without lifting his gaze from the diary.

They stayed in silence for a while. Sans was starting to drift asleep, when the doctor spoke again. It happened so rarely, nowadays, that Sans jolted awake.

“It’s not a diary, by the way. It’s a notebook.”

“yea, yea.” Sans snorted. “i bet… i bet that in that crazy head of yours callin’ it “notebook” instead of “diary” gives it less sentimental value.”

Gaster finally lifted his gaze from the diary, and Sans chuckled. Ah, he knew it. Gaster was just too easy, when it came about emotions. He almost seemed underdeveloped, under that aspect. He had been so focused on his work, all his life, that he had never given himself the chance to become emotionally adult too. The fact that he was treating Sans and Papyrus like some kind of precious possessions to keep away in a cupboard with his other toys was only a confirmation of that.

Gaster shook his head and went back to work.

“I don’t have time to listen to your asinine comments, Sans.”

“fine. you were the one tryin’ to bullshit me, though.”

Gaster sighed a second time and went back to his work. Sans gritted his teeth. Even though Gaster was childish, his perseverance could easily keep up with Sans’ patience.

“doc, listen.”

“I’m working, Sans.”

“just try to listen to me for a moment. then i’ll shut up, okay?”

**Why are you doing this? He’s not going to listen. He’s not going to change.**

That little nagging voice in Sans’ head had kept getting stronger and stronger since they had come back to the lab. It was probably the voice of reason, but Sans discarded it more often than he was willing to admit. There was something, deep inside of him, that didn’t want to give up on Gaster. The same something that could see right through the doctor, right through everyone, and understand what made them tick. Sans had always called it “seeing” - yeah, he was really creative with names - and only Papyrus knew about it. It had always been Sans only power. His magic, before Gaster had violated his soul with foreign substances, had been almost inexistent, but that ability, his _seeing_ , had been the shtick that had allowed him to survive – besides being really great for guessing which kind of pranks could make people the angriest.

Gaster stopped writing for a moment, and Sans knew that he had his attention. The doctor was the kind of person who got bored fast, and Sans had to make every second count, so he dug his eyes right into Gaster.

 _Seeing_ was a more difficult when it came about the most complex parts of Gaster’s mind – such as his enormous ego - but his deepest motivations, his core, could be examined easily. Sans knew that it was kind of dangerous to bring himself so deep inside of someone else, because it was possible to lose oneself to the mind of another, but, if he had the permission to enter, it was a whole other story. And Gaster, with his accepting silence, had just given him allowance to get in.

Sans had never _seen_ Gaster before, not that deeply, because, with the years, the little skeleton had realized that the power he had could be a violation of someone’s privacy; plus, while he had been working in the lab, he had respected Gaster too much to put his nasal cavity into the doctor’s personal business. But desperate times required desperate measures, right? Besides… being _seen_ didn’t hurt. Most of the times, it made people relieved. But, if the secret was big and nasty, and the person bitter enough, it could lead to some bad reactions.

_well… here goes nothin’._

Sans swallowed and tried to focus. His mind was hazy for the most of the time, due to all the medicines the doctor was stuffing him with, but he still had the strength to do this.

For a brief moment, Sans felt as if he had been getting out of his own body. Gaster became closer and closer, and Sans, before the doctor could raise his walls again, was able to grasp something.

Sans dropped back in his body, shivering, and he realized that Gaster’s magic wasn’t keeping him in place anymore.

“What the hell did you just do?” gasped the doctor, pressing a hand on his chest. He looked scared for a millisecond, but Gaster had always been a master at gaining back control, and he tried to pin Sans on the examination table again.

However, he had been a bit too slow.

Before he could raise his hand, a blue glow surrounded his chest, making his body feel so heavy that he almost face-planted on his desk.

Sans looked at him, his left hand raised.

He couldn’t believe it.

_He did it._

He finally stopped him, he had Gaster at HIS mercy, now.

Sans let out a crooked, desperate laugh. If he had known his useless power could’ve done the trick, he would’ve used it a long time ago.

The little skeleton got down the examination table, and almost keeled over on the floor. His knees were trembling. His reserves of magic had been completely drained so many times that he was in a weakened state that would’ve lasted for a long time, even if he had finally gotten out of that lab. But he managed to keep it together and get closer to Gaster.

The doctor was fuming with murder intent, and he dug into the wood of the desk with his fingers.

“Sans. Let. Me. Go.”

His deep voice was so demanding that Sans, having been conditioned to fear it, almost let his magic drop.

 _Almost_.

“i don’t think i’m gonna obey this time, doc.” He giggled again, euphoria engulfing his mind. “i won’t obey you ever again, in fact. how does it feel to be pinned like that? is it fun? it surely must be a… grounding experience for you.”

“Sans. You won’t be able to keep this going forever. You’re weak. You can barely stand up. Do you really think I’d ever let your magic muster up enough strength to actually be of any danger to ME? When I’ll get free, you’re going to regret this so badly.”

“yea, yea… try to scare me all you want” whispered Sans. When Gaster talked like that it actually made his soul quiver in fear, but the doctor wasn’t really in need to know that. “but, now, i’m the one makin’ the rules, so-“

Gaster clutched his fists, trying to lift his head, but it was in vain. It was like trying to move through a wall of molasses. That damn… little skeleton. “What did you do to me, before? Were you trying to hurt me? Because, if that’s the case, I can tell you there’s nothing left to hurt.”

The sharp grin on Sans’ face softened, turning into a tired smile. “nah. i was just tryin’ to… well, you wouldn’t understand anyway, and ‘s not important. but no, i wasn’t tryin’ to hurt ya, doc.”

“Then, what were you-“

Sans was very close to Gaster now. Only a few steps away. He still didn’t have the heart to actually touch the doctor, like putting a hand on his shoulder. All the times he did that, Gaster had almost sent him straight to Dust Town.

“the point, gaster, is that i can SEE you. the real you. not this kind of cold fish persona that you hide yourself with. you’ve tried to squeeze every bit of compassion out of me, but i… i know that isn’t really what you want.”

**Don’t get closer. He’s going to bite back, if you allow him.**

Sans had to muster up all his courage to finally lift his right hand and put it on Gaster’s arm in a non-threatening gesture, as if he had been trying to tame him. His fingers were trembling, fear getting through even if Sans was keeping it in check.

“i saw somethin’ before you cut me off. i know what you’ve been through. the war… it has taken a great toll on you, right? and i know you’re afraid to lose me and papyrus too, but-“ Sans sighed deeply. His eye sockets were stinging. “you’re not goin’ to, okay? you made us powerful. you succeeded! ‘s over. ya don’t need to do anythin’ else. if you let us go now, we won’t try to get payback, okay? i understand why you did it, even if i don’t condone it at all. so. we can still be… friends, ya know? just… let go of this, gaster. if you keep goin’ this way… i’m afraid you’re just goin’ to become the very thing you hate.”

He had finally said his spiel. That had taken a lot out of him, even more than _seeing_ through Gaster.

The doctor was really quiet. It always happened, when Sans tried to put someone in front of a truth they didn’t like, but it had been the last ace in his sleeve. Now Gaster knew all his little tricks. There weren’t any more secrets between them, and it was both terrifying and weirdly comforting.

Sans had exposed himself. It had to be worth something, right? It had to have a meaning.

The little skeleton kept petting Gaster’s arm, trying to smile.

“doc? there’s no need to be scared. i’m not… i didn’t want to violate your memory, ‘s just that-“

“You should kill me, Sans.”

Sans felt like a weight had just been dropped on his stomach. “w… wha-“

“Because, when I’ll get free, we’ll just go back to our schedule. And, for your own sake, I’ll pretend that whatever THIS was, it didn’t happen. Because you wouldn’t like if I tried looking into it.”

“gaster…”

Sans’ voice sounded more like a plea, now, but he didn’t care. He knew the doctor was going to be mad, all walled up into himself as he was: having someone messing with his extremely delicate emotions had to be a shock for him.

But Sans had hoped that talking like that, saying just how things really were, for once, maybe would’ve loosened Gaster’s emotional barriers.

“Just do it. Finish me off, if you really want to get out of here. Because I’ll never, EVER let you leave, if you’re not able to actually defend yourself. And, seeing what you did here, just made me realize how WEAK you really are.”

“gaster, please, this is… this is absurd. i know you don’t really mean it, stop pretendin’ already!“

“See? You’re just talkin’ it out, like always. You don’t actually have the guts to do anything to me… or to anybody else!” Gaster was finally able to lift his head, and Sans made a step backwards, his left hand trembling in the effort to keep the doctor down. “Yes, I’ve seen the war.” Gaster managed to get up, even though his shoulders were slouched under the weight of Sans’ magic. God, he was so tall, even like that. And Sans… Sans was so small. “I’ve seen many monsters die, just because they thought exactly like you. They didn’t understand that the only thing humans get is strong messages. Killing, hurting, breaking. That’s the only way you can actually keep them at bay. And you can’t even stop ME from hurting you. You can’t even face your DEAR FRIEND. Then, how do you think you’re going to survive THEM, once we get out of here? Because if I seem cruel to you, just wait to see a human, and you’ll know what cruelty truly is.”

“no. you’re just trying to confuse me. th-this isn’t ‘bout humans anymore, d-doc… it’s ‘bout me n’ paps… n’ you. tryin’ to get me to KILL? how can you not see how utterly insane this is? you can’t force me to be somethin’ ‘m not! and, if you did, i’d just become a soulless husk! is that… is that really what you want?”

“I don’t care what you become, Sans. As long as you’re alive” hissed Gaster. “I just want to keep you safe. And I’ll do anything that’s necessary, even if I have to make you hate me. Even if I have to tear you apart piece by piece, to finally make you understand that in this world it’s kill or be killed, and that, if you give others the chance to hurt you, they will eat you alive.”

Gaster had gotten closer and closer with every word, making Sans go back on his steps. The doctor was filling the whole room, now, and Sans was finding it harder and harder to think. He was feeling trapped, even though it was still him who had the upper hand.

“that’s not true, gaster! that can’t be all there is in life! you’re just cynical and bitter, and- i won’t let ya make me like you!”

“Then kill me! Kill me, because I won’t ever stop, until you’ll be seeing reason!”

Sans’ hold on Gaster had become so shaky that, with one push, the doctor managed to free himself from his hold; he grabbed the little skeleton by the neck of his worn sweater, lifting him without any effort. Sans’ feet moved in the air, trying to get free, his bony fingers digging into Gaster’s wrist. Sans was staring at the doctor with wide eye sockets, wheezing. There wasn’t enough air in that room. The walls were closing in. Gaster had got him again. The doctor was going to… to just tear his soul apart. There was no escaping, no nothing. Only Gaster.

The doctor was right. Sans didn’t have the courage to kill him, because, deep down, he still saw Gaster as his old friend. Even Sans’ _seeing_ wasn’t objective anymore. Gaster had dug his fingers so deep into him, for so long, before turning into a monster, that Sans still loved him too much to just put an end to his life.

Gaster smiled, knowing that he had just defeated every will Sans still had, and tightened his grip around his neck, making the little skeleton squirm.

“Look at yourself. So pathetic. So weak. You can’t even hurt me right.” The doctor laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“gaster… please…” Sans’ eyelights were getting dimmer. “we’re f-friends, you don’t hafta-“

“We are NOT friends, Sans. Not anymore. Not until you’ll seriously start to listen to me. You can’t escape. Just surrender. There’s no other way. Give in to what I ask of you, and then, _maybe_ , we’ll be friends again, since you’re so obsessed with these sappy, meaningless things-“

A sudden cracking noise made Gaster freeze.

Sans went limp in his hold, eye sockets empty and black, and stopped struggling altogether.

The doctor’s soul skipped a few beats – did he just accidentally snap a bone in his anger? - and he laid Sans on the ground. Gaster checked him. Everything was fine, his HP intact. Sans had just fainted for a moment. It had been too much for him.

Of _course_ it had been too much. Sans was just like that. He always had to escape when things got serious.

The doctor gave a few taps on his cheekbones, trying to wake him up, but Sans was gone.

“Fine. Fine, if you have to be like that-“

Gaster scooped him up and carried him all the way to the room he and Papyrus shared.

“This is very childish of you, Sans.” Gaster said, mainly to himself, since Sans couldn’t hear him anymore. His frame was slouched against the doctor’s, completely unresponsive. “You can’t do this every time you don’t get what you want. I’m just trying to help, you disrespectful… goodhearted runt.”

Sans didn’t answer. He was just limp, and his chest was barely moving.

Gaster sighed. Even though he was still mad, his soul was starting to twitch in worry. Maybe he had pushed Sans a bit too hard this time. But Sans had been the one to start all this. Sans had _looked_ into him, and Gaster didn’t even know how he had done such a thing. Being exposed like that had made him lose his mind. Sans should’ve known better. He should’ve known that it was dangerous to needle Gaster that way. It was all his fault if this had happened.

Gaster opened the door of the skeletons’ room with his magic. Papyrus was laying on his bed, back facing the entrance. Gaster knew that he was just pretending to sleep, waiting for him to go away, so he would have left him alone to take care of Sans. Maybe… maybe that was what Sans needed right now.

“You better rest, now.” Gaster said to the little skeleton, tucking him in his bed’s covers to keep him warm – he was worringly cold to the touch. “I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you, alright?”

Sans didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. He was still giving him the silent treatment.

“Fine. I’ll leave you to your brother, then.”

Gaster exited the room in a storm of anger, closing it behind him. When he went back to the lab, he broke lots of very expensive machines, but he didn’t care. He just needed to let out some steam.

                                     

 

The first thing Sans felt when he came back to his senses, was a dull, throbbing ache in his chest.

“ow…”

“BROTHER! YOU’RE BACK!”

Two familiar, bony arms wrapped around him, squeezing the air out of his ribcage. Sans stayed limp in their hold for a few seconds, before trying to hug back. But he had to stop halfway, because of a deep pain between his ribs.

“ow, ow, ow… that… that really hurt…”

He clutched at his chest with a hand, trying to suffocate the pain. That gesture brought him some comfort, and he was able to breathe again. The ringing in his ears went away, and Papyrus’ voice finally got through.

“ARE YOU WOUNDED? BROTHER, PLEASE, TALK TO ME! I’ve been here with you for almost an hour…”

“huh? an hour?”

Sans didn’t really remember going back to their room, even though he was happy to be with Papyrus again. His brother looked really worried, and couldn’t stop hugging Sans, even though he had left enough space to let Sans massage his aching ribcage.

“he must’ve really worked me down to the bone this time, if i fainted. ack-  oh, gods… my chest…”

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH IT? DID HE HURT YOU? WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU THIS TIME?!” Papyrus’ cheekbones took an orange hue, his shoulders trembling with rage. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater like the protagonist of an old-style cartoon and gritted his teeth. “DR.PESTER IS REALLY GOING TO HEAR ME OUT THIS TIME! NO MEANY HURTS MY BROTHER!”

Sans chuckled between his haggard breaths. Papyrus always managed to make him feel better. The fact that he could never get Gaster’s name right, even after all that time, was just the cherry on the cake. He probably did that on purpose, just to make Sans smile.

“bro… there’s no need. ‘m fine, really. besides, he’s not listenin’ to anyone anymore…”

Papyrus’ energy wound down in seeing Sans squeeze his eye sockets shut, curling up on himself in pain, and the tall skeleton decided that Dr.Fenster could wait. Now his brother needed him the most.

He sat back on Sans’ bed and started to rub his spine. That always seemed to relax him when he was tense, and this time made no exception.

“How is it now, brother? A little better?”

Sans nodded with a tired smile. “yea… a little.”

“YOU’RE HURTING REALLY BADLY, AREN’T YOU, SANS?”

“heh… i can’t really say no now, huh? it… uh… i don’t know what’s wrong. gaster didn’t really wound me, this time.”

“TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED, SANS.”

Sans was so tired that he didn’t have the strength to hide anything from Papyrus, besides having the need to tell him what happened, so he reported everything he recalled.

“… i just couldn’t do it, yanno? i couldn’t hurt him, in the end. and then he got me again, and- i don’t remember what happened after that. i know he said some really… r-really horrible things to me, but- everything’s a blur.” Sans suddenly started sobbing, and Papyrus winced. When his brother was feeling bad enough to let himself go like that, it meant that he was in desperate need of help. “’m so sorry, paps! if i had been strong enough to stop him… we would’ve gotten outta here… ‘s all my fault. ‘m so damn weak, i-“

“HUSH, BROTHER. You’re saying really mean things about yourself right now, and it’s not good for you. It’s not your fault, okay? You’re not the wrong one here.”

“but… if i had done it… we would be free, you would be happy again, and i-“

“SANS, PLEASE. I WANT TO ESCAPE… BUT NOT AT THE EXPENSE OF your HAPPINESS.”

Papyrus cleaned the tears from his brother’s skull, and pinched one of his cheekbones, trying to make him smile.

“YOU’RE MORE IMPORTANT THAN GETTING OUT OF HERE. BESIDES… THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALREADY HAPPY, WITH YOU BY HIS SIDE. EVERY SUPER HERO NEEDS A SIDEKICK. WHAT WOULD I DO IF YOU WEREN’T THERE, SANS?”

The little skeleton let out an unstable laugh, and caressed Papyrus’ face. “oh, bro. you’re always so sweet. but, ya know, a sidekick is actually meant to help, not to drag ya down.”

“YOU’RE JUST SPOUTING JIBBERISH NOW, BROTHER! Stop it, okay? I don’t like hearing you berate yourself like that.”

“i know. sorry.”

“AND STOP SAYING SORRY! IT’S DR.LOBSTER’S FAULT, NOT YOURS! Don’t let him put weird ideas into your skull.”

Sans smiled, lowering his gaze. “g-got it. don’t hafta listen to ‘im.”

Good grief… Sans definitely already had all sorts of weird ideas in his mind, didn’t he? But the Great Papyrus was going to shoo them away!

“NOW THAT YOU’RE MORE RELAXED, BROTHER… LET ME SEE YOUR CHEST.”

“what? n-no… paps, w-wait-!”

Sans tried to hold his sweater, but Papyrus easily took it away from his clumsy fingers, exposing his ribcage. Sans was surprised as much as his brother to not see any kind of injury. He still felt really uncomfortable, though. The pain in his chest was real. He wasn’t imagining it, was he?

“oh… heh… hehe! nothin’ there… phew. that’s a relief, huh?”

However, if the pain didn’t come from his bones, why wasn’t it going away?

“SANS.”

“i told ya ‘m fine.”

“SANS.”

“what? what is it?” Cold sweat was dripping down Sans’ cervical vertebrae.

“LET ME SEE YOUR SOUL.”

“wha? that’s… that’s a very personal thing, yanno, paps?”

“IF YOU’RE AFRAID I’LL DISCOVER THE LOCATION OF ALL YOUR SECRET KETCHUP STASHES IF I EXAMINE YOUR SOUL, I PROMISE I’LL LEAVE THEM BE, JUST THIS ONCE.”

Sans snorted. Ah, if only THAT was still the thing he was worrying about the most.

“BESIDES, I’M YOUR BROTHER. I’VE ALREADY SEEN YOUR WORST, BUT ALSO YOUR BEST. THERE’S NOTHING I DON’T ALREADY KNOW.”

“oh, how very presumptuous of you, bro. i’ve got more skeletons in the closet than you think.”

“SANS.”

“okay, okay. i’ll take it out. just don’t freak out, if something’s wrong. promise?”

“SANS, IF YOU BEAT SO MUCH AROUND THE BUSH, YOU COULD BECOME A PROFESSIONAL GARDENER! … but I promise, if that makes you feel better.”

Sans didn’t have any other excuses, so, after sighing deeply, he pushed his soul out of his ribcage with his magic. His soul had always been very much like him: small, chubby, round and really sleepy most of the time, almost as if it was on the verge of creating a magical blanket and go nap somewhere. However, it had always had a healthy glow, enough to muster some warmth in a cold night… and what Sans saw in front of him made him suddenly feel detached, as if he had been staring at the soul of a stranger.

That… that-

Couldn’t possibly be him, right?

The soul looked really, really dim, and more transparent than normal. The cause was soon clear to both of them: white magic was slowly abandoning the organ through a nasty crack on its surface, big enough to make the glistening substance visible for a few seconds, before it dispersed in the air like smoke.

“OH GOD. YOUR SOUL IS… IS CRACKED, BROTHER!”

“it… uh… it seems like it, yea. but it doesn’t hurt as bad as it should. i don’t really feel much, all of a sudden.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! THIS IS BAD. REALLY, REALLY, REALLY BAD.”

“heh. no joke. even i can see that.”

Papyrus took Sans by his shoulders and gave him a cautious shake. “HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALM, BROTHER?! YOUR MAGIC IS LEAKING EVERYWHERE! IT SHOULDN’T DO THAT, YOU KNOW? IT SHOULD STAY INSIDE YOUR SOUL! AND YOUR SOUL SHOULD BE ALL SHINY AND HAPPY TO GET OUT AND SEE YOU, N-NOT… c-chalky, and… scared.”

That was a great resume. Sans agreed with Papyrus, his soul was in really bad shape, but… suddenly, he didn’t feel as worried as he should’ve, and the pain seemed less persistent too. Looking at himself, the only thing Sans felt was numbness. Probably it was a self-defense mechanism. Over a certain point, you couldn’t feel that much at all, or you would’ve been squirming on the floor in pain – well, he had already some practice with that, didn’t he?

“i don’t think my soul has ever been happy to see me, tibia honest. besides, you promised you were goin’ta keep your bones together.”

“SANS… SANS, STOP IT. THERE HAS NEVER BEEN A WORSE TIME FOR PUNS.” Papyrus put a hand on his back and rubbed gently. “WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? DO YOU WANT ME TO TRY TO HEAL IT?”

Sans didn’t think that some healing magic was going to do the trick, or that the crack could be fixed at all. Probably he was just going to be scarred for life.

Whatever.

He had been collecting traumas like a pro, in those last few months. What was a little crack gonna do to him?

If a few harsh words were enough to break him like that, it meant Gaster had been right all along. He really was a pathetic weakling, deep down to his marrow.

 “try it. you’re the great papyrus, if there’s someone who can do it, it’s you. but… if it doesn’t work, promise me you’re not going to tell gaster. i don’t want my soul nowhere near that psycho. he’s too… handsy for my tastes.”

“BROTHER, I WILL LET THAT ABYSMAL JOKE SLIDE JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE SCARED OUT OF YOUR MIND, RIGHT NOW.”

Scared? Sans wasn’t really afraid. He was just… he didn’t even know how he was feeling, now. Everything was too dull and distant to actually understand his emotions. So, trying to not appear too indifferent towards what was happening, Sans relaxed into Papyrus’ hold – that was one of the things he was capable enough to do without messing up – and crossed his fingers on his stomach, waiting for his brother to pour some healing magic into his soul.

Papyrus sighed at his far too chill attitude and focused on healing him. At the beginning, Sans didn’t feel any difference. Then, slowly, a soft warmth started to spread in his bones. And, together with the warm sensation, came back all the pain that, as Sans had said, he should’ve been feeling. But his body was too relaxed to curl up, and, slowly, the pain recoiled, becoming bearable.

The little skeleton slouched in Papyrus’ hold, letting out a sigh of relief. Being so close to Papyrus made him feel at home. If he closed his eye sockets, he could almost… imagine… to actually be in their house, in Snowdin. He could hear the MTT Cooking Show episode his brother always watched after dinner, punctual like the annoying dog who presented itself at their house every time they opened the fridge, and he could feel the warmth of his favorite socks on his feet… all comforting and happy things he had long forgotten about.

“SANS?”

Oh, there was Papyrus, nagging him like always. He surely was in the kitchen preparing some terrible spaghetti for the both of them. Sans had to think about some excuse to dodge his offering without offending him, and sneak out to Grillby’s, but right now his mind was fuzzy and round, too sleepy to plot a good scheme. He was feeling so at ease, after such a long time of being stressed and hurt, that he couldn’t resist the warm feeling.

“five m’re min’ts. ‘m sleep’n’” Sans slurred, not moving an inch. “d’n’t wan’ sp’ghetti.”

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, BROTHER? WE’RE STILL IN THE LA- oh. Uhm. Yeah, if you don’t want them, I can put them away for later, what do you think?”

“you’re… so cool. love ya s’much.”

Papyrus sighed deeply and massaged Sans’ chest. His soul was back in his ribcage, and Papyrus’ magic had managed to stop the magical leaking and create a calcification around the wound. It was a very frail protection, but Sans seemed more like himself now, so it had been worth it, even though Papyrus had completely emptied his magic reserve to do it.

“I LOVE YOU TOO, BROTHER. But please, try to not give me a soul attack every five minutes, okay?”

“hnn… ‘m’kay… ‘ll try…”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked how I talked about Sans' judging ability. His lack of creativity is there to justify my own shortcomings, obviously. SEE ya.


	3. The last time I hurt you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster discovers about Sans' broken soul, and even he freaks out a little. Maybe? It's difficult to understand what goes through that thick head of his.  
> Oh, and Chara makes an appearance.

Sans was dragging his feet in Gaster’s trail, a hand pressed on his chest. His stare was fixed on the floor, his eye sockets unfocused and glassy. He was massaging his ribs, trying to soothe the ache in his soul.

Since Papyrus had healed him, it got a little bit better. He could feel things again, even though, all considering, it would’ve been better if he had gone completely numb. Gaster had been strangely cautious with Sans, since he had told him all the things that he knew were going to cut the deepest, but that hadn’t been enough to seal the crack in Sans’ soul. It had reopened many times, and Papyrus, as much as he tried to make it hurt less, hadn’t been able to produce all the magic necessary to fix it. Probably the doctor would’ve been able to do such a thing, given that he was one of the most powerful monsters in the Underground, but Sans preferred to die, instead of asking him for help.

Probably, if Sans had told Gaster what had happened, the doctor would’ve laughed and pointed out to him that he was a failure on a whole other level anyway. So Sans kept everything to himself, avoiding to show his soul to Gaster, always wearing at least a shirt when he was being tested on. Thank God the doctor didn’t ask him what that sudden modesty was all about, and left Sans the freedom to do as he wished.

 “… are you listening?”

Sans’ head jerked upwards, and he looked at Gaster’s unreadable expression. He _saw_ … no, he couldn’t _see_ anymore. He wasn’t able to. Every time he tried to read the doctor, his soul ached even stronger, so he had stopped entirely. Sans lowered his gaze again and nodded.

“What did I just say?”

“uh… ehm…”

Gaster sighed. “Sans, if you’re feeling ill, you should tell me.”

What a bastard. He already knew how Sans felt. If he had truly wanted to help him, he would’ve let him go free.

“hm-hm.”

“You’re not going to talk to me, I imagine.”

Sans this time stayed quiet. It was really hard to both listen to Gaster and keep his soul aches at bay.

“Why are you always massaging your chest? Are you hurt?”

Sans needed a good ten seconds to take in the question, and he almost started to laugh hysterically.

“i… no. ‘m fine, really. ‘s just calms me down, that’s all. all this walkin’ in the dark and testin’ all the time has really worn me out. i just need some sleepin’, and i’ll be fine.”

What a lie. He was _never_ going to be fine again. The longer the crack stayed open, the more all-consuming it became. If Sans didn’t find a doctor… a SANE doctor soon, he was going to be crippled for the rest of his life.

However, his half-truths managed to satisfy Gaster – Sans had learned to lie from the best –, and the doctor resumed walking, after giving him a concerned look.

“You’ve been doing very good so far, Sans. After we’re done with this experiment today, I’ll leave you some days all for yourself. Does that sound fair enough?”

“mh.”

“Sans.”

“yea… whatever you want, doc.”

 

The road was weirdly long. Sans had never seen the part of the lab they were in, nor did he know about its existence. It wasn’t drawn on the blueprints that were hung on every wall to help workers orientate themselves in such a huge building. No, this was new.

Sans looked around, trying to place their position in regard of the surface… well, the Underground’s surface. They had to be still in Hotland, right? They surely had walked for a mile or two; Sans could tell that from the burning sensation in his soul. He was tired. He needed to sit for a moment, or he was going to faint into the lava that surrounded the tongue of rock they were walking on.

Gaster’s pace had slowed down during their little adventure, as if he had noticed how strained Sans’ breathing had become, and how his stumbling little steps had made the distance between them grow exponentially.

“where’re… where’re we goin’?” slurred Sans, blinking rapidly to stay awake. “how much longer do i hafta drag my bones around?”

Gaster gave him THE look. It was the same expression he gave Sans when, ages ago, the little skeleton used to nag the doctor with his jokes or offer Gaster every sort of greasy food to cheer him up.

“you always look so worn out. you’ve eaten nothin’ for days! c’mon, take a bite o’this burger.”

“I don’t eat garbage, Sans.”

“…but what if it tastes good?”

“…fine, then. However, if I’m going to develop an unknown illness, I’m going to pin it on you. And now leave, I have to work!”

Sans chuckled to himself, then sighed. Those memories seemed like hazed dreams, now. Were they even real? Was Gaster planning to kidnap him and ruin his life since the beginning?

WE ARE NOT FRIENDS.

Those words echoed in Sans’ mind and sent a shiver through his whole being. Then, why was Gaster even doing this, if they hadn’t ever been friends? What purpose did all this have? Did he really just like to torture Sans?

After all, Gaster had made clear from the beginning that he didn’t need any kind of friends. He seemed to hate people, in a way. Sans had thought that the doctor was just afraid to expose himself to possible emotional disappointment, but his motivations ran deeper than that. So deep that no one really knew why Gaster was that way.

“why do ya always eat on your own, anyway? there’s the cafeteria at the third floor, and the coffee room. there’s lotsa nice people that you could talk to, there.”

“I don’t really feel the need to talk to anyone.”

“do ya? ‘cause ya look a little…”

“Sans.”

“okay, okay, no comments about your emotional state… but, if ya don’t want to go there, i can bring you somethin’. i’m your assistant, right?”

“Yes, you are my assistant. But, Sans…”

“yea?”

“I… would like to keep everything professional. You can’t be friends with your workers.”

“oh my god, you’re so dramatic! ‘m just tryin’ to be nice… is it that bad, if i consider you a friend of mine?”

Gaster hadn’t answered that, but his expression had told Sans everything he had to know. Why… oh, god, why did he have to give himself the objective of making Gaster less miserable? If Sans had just minded his own business, he and Papyrus wouldn’t have ended in that hellhole to begin with.

Sans stumbled on his feet and fell on the ground, scratching his kneecaps. He implied a whole minute to realize that his memories weren’t reality, and that he had almost fallen right into the lava. His chest gave a deep twinge and Sans stood there, breathless, trying to calm himself down. He had to think, to clear his head. Everything was blurry, the light of the lava almost blinding, and the heat made him sweat uncomfortably. Suddenly, it was all too much.

A magical hand scooped him up, helping him to his feet.

Someone was yelling at him, but it was muffled and distant. Was that Gaster in front of him? Oh, God, he was mad. Really mad.

“… do you even look where you walk? What the hell has gotten into you, lately? You’re sloppy and careless, and you always look like you have your head in the clouds! You could have fallen to your death! Are you insane?!”

Sans lifted his hands in a weak attempt to protect himself from Gaster’s rage, his soul thumping heavily. This wasn’t good. Being scared just made it hurt worse.

“’m sorry… s-sorry… please, don’t shout…”

Gaster’s voice was too strong, it made his ears ring and his skull ache. Sans had to calm down, he had to, he had to keep it together, but the doctor wasn’t helping at all - he was terrifying, staring at him from above. He was so… so tall, and Sans felt like a bug that could be squished by one of his shoes at any moment.

Gaster kneeled in front of him and tried to take his hands, but Sans recoiled, shaking his head.

“no, please, don’t… don’t hurt-“

Gaster made a weird expression. What was it? Anger? Sadness? Sans couldn’t really tell, he couldn’t _see_ anymore, he couldn’t-

“We’re going to the Core, Sans. I wanted to bring you with me because I needed your assistance, but, at this point, I don’t know if I can rely on you. I can’t bring you back, though… I have to retrieve something really important, at the right time. So, if you don’t mind, I will carry you.”

“huh…. uh?”

“I’m not mad at you. I just want to help you. Please, let me carry you. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Sans grasped his shirt and tried to think. He felt as if not only his magic had been spilling out of the crack in his soul, but also all his thoughts, together with the little intelligence he still had in him.

“o-okay. you can… carry me.”

Sans still flinched when Gaster picked him up, holding the little skeleton close to his chest. Even though Sans was deeply uncomfortable, not being forced to stand up on his own was a relief.

After a short walk, Gaster reached a circular transport pod that led straight towards the Core.

The doctor sat down on one of the seats and put Sans in front of him. The inside of the transport pod was dark and the temperature more bearable.

Sans, still massaging his chest, looked at Gaster without really seeing him. The doctor tried to give him a bottle of water, pushing it against Sans limp fingers more than once, until the little skeleton was able to take it. Sans struggled with the cap of the bottle for a painful amount of time, before opening it. It was hard to witness, even for Gaster.

Sans drank some water and the coolness in his ribcage made him feel a little better, before it was absorbed by his magic.

“… is all about.”

“wha… what did you say?”

Gaster sighed. “I said, you have to tell me what this is all about. We can’t go on like this. What’s wrong with you?”

“besides you putting m-me through painful tests? uh… i don’t know…”

“Sans, I’m serious. I’m not blind. I have played along with your strange behavior until now because I knew you were… hurting, after our last exchange, but this has to stop. Tell me what’s wrong with you. Now.”

Sans swallowed. He still had some dignity left. He wasn’t going to ask Gaster for help. Not even if his soul was going to turn to dust between his own fingers.

“’m just worn out. i told ya. i already do everything you ask, so what… what else do ya want from me? what else can you get? there’s… there’s nothing left for ya to take. just leave me ‘lone. ‘m fine, really.”

Gaster listened patiently to his outburst and sat closer to him, untying the fingers Sans was digging into his shirt. Gaster barely touched Sans’ chest in the process, and the little skeleton jerked away, almost bumping his head on the top of the transport pod.

“Calm down! Maybe you don’t remember, but I’m a doctor, Sans. And a very good one, too. You’re wounded, aren’t you? Let me see.”

“no! d-don’t touch me! stay away!”

“Don’t be foolish. Whatever it is, it’s making you sweat and shiver. Just let me see!”

Sans shook his head and pushed Gaster away, trying to hit him, but the doctor made a few magical hands appear, pinning him on the seat, and Sans’ struggles came to an end.

Gaster was going to see his soul.

The thought alone terrified Sans to death, but he couldn’t do anything to stop him. He was helpless.

And then, Gaster lifted his shirt, touching his bones with care, to see where the wound was.

“There’s nothing here…”

“let go… let me go… please…”

“What’s wrong, then? You’re not pretending. Tell me what’s wrong, Sans.”

But Sans was too busy shivering in his hold to say anything coherent at all. Then, suddenly, he felt as if a fishing hook had skewered his soul and dragged it out. The practice made a jolt of pain go through him like a wave, and then Sans went limp, as his soul hovered right before his chest. Everything became more distant, less real, even the pain. The numbness that was becoming all too familiar allowed Sans to breathe again and relax a little. It was a lot easier to think without his mind being clouded by the dark smoke of terror.

Sans’ soul looked worse than ever. It was losing little white fragments, and the crack, calcified at the extremes, had reopened. The more Papyrus tried to seal it without succeeding, the chalkier the wound became, the harder to close again. Above all, the stream of magic exiting Sans’ soul was so thick that it enlightened the whole transport pod, like a star being eaten away by an insatiable black hole.

Gaster looked at Sans’ soul as if he couldn’t believe it. Well, that, at least, seemed to hit him, somehow. He still had a sliver of conscience, somewhere.

“How… how did this happen?” he asked, voice trembling slightly.

Sans gave a humorless chuckle. “why don’t you try ‘n guess?”

Gaster stared at him blankly, then focused back on Sans’ soul.

“This looks terrible. It’s calcified, it’s… How many times did you try to heal it on your own?”

“uh… it wasn’t me. i can’t really heal anything. it was paps. he did his best, by the way.”

“How many times, Sans.”

“dunno. twenty? thirty? sometimes it needed to be healed more than once in a single day. it has been almost two weeks, goin’ on like this.”

Gaster’s outrage was so dense, it could’ve been cut with a knife. “And you didn’t tell me ANYTHING?”

Sans shrugged. “’n what was i s’posed to say? you never listen to me. you never believe me, when i say somethin’s wrong.”

“Because you always lie to get out of the tests! But this is different, Sans. What were you going to do? Wait until your soul emptied altogether? Did you want to dissolve in front of your brother’s eyes?”

Sans let out a muffled growl. “don’t talk like you care about what papyrus sees. you did this. all of this. you should be satisfied! ya finally broke me... i surrendered, didn’t i? wasn’t that what you wanted all along?”

Gaster hesitated for a moment, and his face seemed to droop, but he gained his composure back real fast. Like always.

“Well. If that’s how it is… if it’s my fault your soul broke, I’ll fix it.”

Sans, who had started to drift off in his debilitated state, jolted awake.

“what? _no_. no, no, no. you’re not goin’ to touch my soul. you ain’t even goin’ to _think_ about touchin’ it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not just going to die, if I don’t do something. You’re going to die a horrible, _slow_ death, completely losing your mind to the pain. Is that what you really want? To suffer terribly for days and make Papyrus watch as you spiral down into madness?”

Sans despised him so much.

“you always know which buttons to push, huh? you bastard… well, fine. heal it all you want. ‘s never goin’ to be the same anyway. ya mangled me. lettin’ me die would just be mercy at this point, but you’re too obsessed with your research to let me-”

Gaster let Sans ramble, not really listening to him, and, in the meanwhile, he held his hands around the little skeleton’s soul. The organ was hurt almost beyond repair, but Gaster’s magic was strong enough to put it back together. If the doctor had discovered about Sans’ secret only a few days later, not even Asgore’s magic would’ve been able to seal that gash.

Gaster had always been excellent at magical healing and, when green light started to leave his hands, entering Sans’ soul, the little skeleton relaxed, despite himself.

“i hate… i hate ya s’much” he slurred, eye sockets already half-drooped. “don’t think… that this ch’nges ‘nythin’ between us. you’re a monst… monster. y-you terrified the heck outta me for months, for nothin’. i… uh… _hnn_ … this’ really… n-nice…”

Sans’ head lolled on his chest. He was feeling a deep warmth in his sternum, getting stronger and stronger, expanding in his body. If compared to this, his brother’s efforts had been nothing, even though they had been far more appreciated. Gaster’s healing was completely different than Papyrus’. The doctor’s objective was just to get the job done, not to make him feel better on the emotional side. Papyrus’ magic had been cozy, like a loving hug; Gaster’s instead was just cold and surgical, even if it was making Sans sigh in relief.

Sans couldn’t even feel his bones anymore. He was floating away. All that pain… Sans had been under it for what felt like centuries, and it was all being lifted, as if it had only been part of a far, bad dream.

And then, slowly, the green light let him go. A hand held Sans’ shoulder, and shook him gently.

“Sans.”

“hmnnn… let me… sleep.”

“Sans, wake up. We have arrived.”

“arrived? where? aren’t we… at home? where’s… paps?”

“Papyrus is in the lab. You came with me to the Core. Do you remember?”

Sans had to use all his strength to open his eye sockets. His body still felt as if it had been floating on a cloud, his head filled with cotton candy. He was very confused, and a vague happiness surrounded his mind. It felt like being drunk with relaxation.

Sans finally realized who was in front of him and frowned. “gaster? what… what’re ya doin’ here? ‘s late, ya should be in bed… i know i am. g’night.”

He curled up, hugging his knees, and sighed. He was already falling asleep, when a merciless hand took him away from his soft little spot on the seat.

“no… leave me ‘lone…”

Gaster ignored Sans’ sleepy demands. The doctor had poured enough healing magic in him to make even an elephant lose track of his whereabouts, and Sans wasn’t exactly in his right mind, now. He couldn’t be trusted to be left alone.

Gaster looked down at him and he realized that Sans hadn’t even tucked the soul back in his chest. Oh, God, after all the effort he had done to seal it, the minimum was to keep it safe!

Gaster put Sans on the ground and held one of his floppy hands. The little skeleton had a relaxed smile on his face, nothing like the tight and quivering grins he had given him since Gaster had reclosed him into the lab. It was nice to see a shadow of his old self back, even though Sans was smiling at Gaster only because he was still drunk with magic.

“hi. how’re ya, doc?” asked Sans, slurring his words. His knees were wobbling under his weight, and Gaster had to sustain one of his arms from preventing him to just sleep on the ground.

“You have to put it inside your chest, Sans.” Gaster said, talking slowly and clearly. It would’ve been funny, if Gaster didn’t know this was just a moment of lightheartedness in a storm of anguish. “Like this. We don’t want it to break again, do we?”

Sans nodded and accompanied his soul inside his chest. Once it was back there, his gaze became a little more lucid, and he blinked.

“what happened? i remember i almost fell into lava…” he said, looking around. “the core, huh? what’re we doin’ here?”

Gaster sighed. He had to get Sans under his magical grip again, however that healing thing had taken a lot out of him. He had never had a patient so stubborn and idiotic to let their soul rot for weeks, before coming to him for help. Sans surely was a special case, in all senses.

“I have sealed you soul, Sans” said the doctor, grasping the little skeleton’s right arm. “But you can bestow your immense gratitude on me later. Now, I have to do something of vital importance, and I would be really happy if you didn’t mess everything up, since you seem to have a natural talent for doing so.”

Sans had barely had the time to process half the words in Gaster’s monologue, that the doctor had already dragged him into the internal layer of the Core. Gaster unceremoniously put him into a metallic closet barely wide enough to contain a few brooms, and gagged Sans with a strip of purple magic. A few more binds locked him in place, preventing him from moving.

“I am very sorry to resort to such barbaric measures with you, but I prefer to be safe than sorry, my friend. Now, I know you must be really tired, so you can rest in here while I’m dealing with my business. Is that an acceptable deal, for you?”

“mffffnnnn!”

“Perfect.”

Gaster closed the door and locked it with a rusty key, before turning his back to the closet. He looked around the insides of his own creation, the heart that was powering the whole Underground and had allowed monsters to survive in the bowels of the earth for centuries. It had been his greatest achievement.

For the last hundred years Gaster hadn’t created anything that was close to the Core’s greatness, and his being burned-out on projecting new machines for the benefit of monster kind had provided him with an increasing number of annoying questions about his research’s progress.

“How’s the DT project going?”

“So, the Soul Trait thing, how did it turn out? Is it going to make monsters more powerful? Could anyone use magic beyond monster’s limits without risks?”

“Gaster, I’m sorry to keep bothering you, but we need more results. There hasn’t been any significant progress in the last ninety or so years, and… people are starting to lose hope. Is that Determination project going to work? Because, if it’s not… I am afraid that we’ll have to try other ways, and that the funds I’ve been providing you with will have to be redirected to other projects.”

King Asgore in particular - one of the few monsters who, like Gaster, had seen the war and was still alive to talk about it - was particularly demanding about Gaster’s progress, since he had to keep the whole Underground hoping for a better future. Asgore and Gaster weren’t very close – he really wasn’t close to anyone, besides Sans and, even though it was in a more moderate way, Papyrus - and the doctor still blamed him for his weakness during the war… but, since they had both lived for so long, there was some kind of unsaid understanding between them, and they were trying to help each other as much as they could.

Well. Helping each other, until it wasn’t about that little brat of his.

Gaster sometimes asked himself how in the world could a monster even _think_ about adopting a human child. It was just baffling. Feeding and raising a puppy, so one day it could grow claws and turn into a beast that had the potential to kill them all. If that wasn’t stupidity, Gaster didn’t know what else it could be.

Both Asgore and Toriel, the queen, had been putting a lot of pressure on the shoulders of the human child, who was still too young to understand the significance she held for monster kind. The kid didn’t really know what to do in order to help them, and, therefore, Gaster had decided to offer her a friendly, loving hand, telling the little idiot that he knew how she could actually put an end to monster kind’s suffering.

The doctor was going to meet the kid in a few minutes, and he had thought to take Sans with him mainly because of his cuddly and harmless exterior, that could easily put a kid at ease. Unfortunately, though, Gaster hadn’t planned to have to deal with a broken soul, so he had decided to put Sans away until the conversation with the kid was over. It would’ve been easier to convince her to work with him first, and then think about an explanation for Sans’ presence.

A noise of light steps followed by the loud “clunks” of the guards’ armors announced the arrival of Gaster’s little guest.

The doctor put his best, kind smile on his face, and waited patiently for the kid to knock on the Core’s door.

 

Sans, from inside the closet, was still putting his thoughts back together, when he heard the creaking of rusty gears. He blinked and tried to see something through the thin gashes in the closet’s door.

Something was happening, something important. He had to stay awake and understand. Whatever was worrying Gaster enough to hide him in a closet, incapable of attracting anyone’s attention, had to mean something. He couldn’t fall asleep, even though the temptation to do so was unbelievably strong.

“… I’m really glad you’re here, child.”

“The name’s Chara, old twat.”

_woah, that attitude’s goin’ to get ya killed, kid._

If Sans had even tried to _think_ about Gaster under those terms, the doctor would’ve probably relieved him of a finger, or something like that.

However, much to Sans’ surprise, Gaster didn’t react to the insult, and limited himself to cross his hands. Sans narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t _seen_ anything in a long time, and he was quite rusty, but, with his soul healed, he could now read some of Gaster’s reactions. The doctor was boiling with the desire of taking the kid and give them a good lesson on who was in charge there, but was containing himself.

_he wants somethin’ from that kid, there’s no bones about it. gaster’s always been good at hidin’ his intentions. you better go home, bucko, before he drags you down with him too._

A series of very unpleasant images about being tied to examination tables and purple hands pinning him like an insect passed through Sans’ mind.

The little skeleton realized that he had been spacing off again and he tried to focus. Even though his soul had been healed, he was far from being back to his old self. His mind had lost all its sharpness. Sans was barely able to prevent himself to fall into the catatonic state that was waiting for him just under the veil of his conscious mind, ready to grasp him as soon as he stopped struggling.

“… so, how the hell are you supposed to help me, scarecrow?” There it was again, the kid’s voice. It sounded weirdly adult, for a nine or ten-year-old. It was shrill, but rather demanding, with an unsettling quality to it. Sans had never heard no monster talk like that, besides Gaster. There was the ability to hurt in that voice; it was like a little, evil seed ready to turn into a series of venomous spikes. “Dad says you’re not progressing much. What are you even doing here, then? Focusing on side projects or something?”

Sans would’ve definitely made a noise, if the doctor hadn’t gagged him.

“No. I’m still working on the DT project, little child… however, such adult things are beyond your comprehension, so I won’t bore you with extremely complex theories and chemistry knowledge.”

_oh, there it is! some vitriol, finally!_

It was almost funny to see the doctor word-fight with a child. It surely had to be one messed up kid, to behave like that. It made Sans think about a side character in an old movie about a chocolate factory or somethin’. Weird human stuff.

Sans however was really interested in that kid, and he would’ve wanted to be able to see her face, but she was out of his limited vision from inside the closet. How could a kid, out of all the monsters in the Underground, be of any use to Gaster? The doctor didn’t take anything he couldn’t use for himself later, so, there had to be a reason.

“What I think, Chara, is that we could help each other.”

“Hm. Really.”

“Yes.” Sans could almost hear the “little brat” Gaster’s lips fought to not let out. “You want to help monster kind, isn’t that true?”

That question loosened a bit the attitude of the kid. Sans heard the shuffling of her clothes, and, when she spoke again, her voice was less sharp and more child-like. Maybe it could even have belonged to someone who had once been a good kid.

“Yes” she said, plain and simple. “Monsters are the only ones worth helping anyway.”

Weird. She talked as if she hadn’t been included in the “monsters” concept.

“Then, that’s perfect. You want to help monster kind, I want to help monster kind. We’re almost friends, don’t you think?” said Gaster, his voice shifting immediately, now soft and warm like a blanket.

_god, he’s so good at pretendin’ n’ sayin’ what you wanna hear._

No wonder that he had fooled both Sans and Papyrus. To think… to think that once, Gaster had used that same tone with him while telling Sans how much he mattered to him, made his eye sockets sting. Sans had been such an idiot to fall for it. Gaster had never been able to love anyone or anything. He was just obsessed with his research and nothing else.

A lonely tear fell down Sans’ left cheekbone, losing itself in his shirt. He hadn’t many left for the doctor. After everything that had happened, nothing was going to be the same: neither Sans’ idea of Gaster, nor Sans himself. The gash in the deepest part of his being was gone, sure, but in its place there was a profound scar that was never, _ever_ going to go away.

“Friends?” The kid’s voice brought Sans back to reality. This time, there was some bitterness in the child. “If you say so. What I care about is that monsters get what they deserve. Humans were never worthy of living on the surface anyway.”

That last sentence had made something inside Sans freeze. If Gaster despised humanity because he had lost more than could be said in the war, that child utterly loathed it. The hate oozed from every syllable that exited her lips, so thick and black that it pervaded the air with a foul, heavy smell.

Regarding humans, Sans only knew that they had locked monsters underground after a carnage, but, from what he had read, humans had also created many wonderful things. They were creatures of both horror and beauty. Sans wasn’t necessarily a fan of them, but he couldn’t deny that they had a certain charm to them. And, maybe, they weren’t all evil down to their marrow.

But to hear a _child_ talk like that, implying that they hoped monsters were going to wipe humanity off the surface once they got free again… it was chilling, especially for someone who could _see_ and feel all that hate almost as if it had been devouring their own soul.

“So, to do this, you need to take some DT from my soul, right? And then? How are you going to use it?”

_dt? how can a monster…?_

And then, Sans finally put together the pieces of the puzzle. Whoever that kid was, it wasn’t a monster. _It was a human._

How many things did Sans lose track of, during the time he had been trapped in the lab? What had happened outside?

Gaster had never told him anything about a human falling in the Underground. Nothing at all. Well, not that the doctor had told him much else at all. Gaster was a reclusive individual, he didn’t exactly go out to chat with someone else – if he had actually been able to do so, probably Sans and Papyrus would’ve still been in the coziness of their home, mentally unscarred -, but he kept himself informed about the most important things. As the royal scientist, he had to. But, if he had meant to not tell anything to Sans, why had Gaster brought him in the Core when he was going to see a human? Didn’t he lock Sans in the lab precisely to keep him away from such harm?

Sans had long become accustomed to Gaster’s double standards, but, like always, there had to be a reason in the doctor’s warped mind, to put Sans in danger like that, even though Sans couldn’t see it yet.

“Well… since I’ve only been able to create synthetic DT, I wanted to see if the pure, unaltered substance taken directly from a human soul could have more interesting effects.”

“Interesting effects.”

“Yes. Well. I have a few subjects that could be able to bear it. There’s also me. The positive side of the experiment I am planning is that, without actually absorbing your soul, we could be able to do something.”

“You’re really vague for being a science man.”

That kid surely was a something. A part of Sans was very much amused to see Gaster’s face scrunch up in anger like that, but he was too busy crumbling down to laugh. As far as Sans knew, THEY were Gaster’s only subjects. And, even though Sans didn’t care about his own wellbeing as much as he used to do, he still cared VERY much about Papyrus’.

Gaster had to use all his willpower to smile kindly. “It appears that enough DT mixed with a great quantity of magic could allow someone to become indescribably powerful. You’re still too young to know how to use such power, but a well-trained monster, someone who could bear the substance, could easily use it. And, maybe, we might be able to break the barrier without having anyone die. How does it sound?”

Chara mumbled thoughtfully, and Sans could imagine her scratching her chin.

“And you’re sure that this isn’t going to kill me.”

“A 100% sure.”

“What about your subjects… didn’t you say DT… melts monsters? Aren’t they going to die?”

Gaster cleared his throat and got closer to the kid. “They’re not going to die. I know how they are made, and… let’s say that, even though it sounds unscientific to an unholy extreme, _love_ might come in handy. From what I’ve seen, determination in humans can be used to both destroy and heal. It very much depends on the intentions and the nature of the soul possessing it, and for a monster it’s not different. If a monster is in the right predisposition, if they still have the will to live for something and it hits them hard at the right time and the right place, they _will_ come back.” The doctor thought that it wasn’t necessary to explain the kid that the process was still awfully erratic and it didn’t always work. Gaster was definitely working with something, he was on the verge of making a breakthrough in the DT project, but he needed more substance to test this new theory, and he needed it fast. Taking it from a human was far more rapid than producing it synthetically – to obtain a few milligrams of the thing, he had implied almost six months -, so that was going to be Chara’s role in his new experiment. “That’s our best shot, even though it’s still a nebulous concept. I have to try it out again, to make sure it’s safe.”

A thick silence dropped on the Core. The kid sighed and then Sans saw a pink, soft hand meet Gaster’s fingers.

“I guess. Let’s try it. After all, you know what you’re doing, right?”

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you tell your friends waiting outside to go home? I’ll bring you back to the palace personally, if you allow me.”

“…okay. But don’t do anything weird. If I don’t go back, someone’s going to notice I’m gone, I can tell you that.”

Gaster flinched, but kept his smile in place. “What do you think I am? Some kind of mad scientist who’s going to kidnap you?” He gave out a hearty laugh. “I’m not going to lay a finger on you, dear child. Come on, now. Talk with them, I’ll wait for you here.”

Chara nodded and exited the inside of the Core.

 

Gaster kneeled down and opened the closet where he had left Sans. The small monster was still there, all slouched. He had fallen asleep. Of course he did. That was what he did best.

The doctor sighed and shook his head. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about that before? We wouldn’t have come to this point, you little… stupid… you could’ve died!”

Gaster picked up Sans and held him in his arms. The little skeleton now was warm, and his expression less strained. His soul had resumed working properly, distributing magic in his body how it should’ve in the first place.

The doctor massaged his spine, while waiting for the kid to come back. He wanted to talk to Chara about Sans, so she could see that the DT experiment they were about to do had had at least a successful case, but the doctor didn’t have the heart to wake him up. Sans was exhausted. How had he been able to live with a broken soul for two entire weeks, was still a mystery to Gaster. Just another weird thing to add to the mystery pile surrounding that little skeleton who was so weak it was ridiculous, but had a weird, inexplicable strength to him lying under his goofy appearance.

The door reopened, and Chara gave the doctor a stern look. Even though she was barely taller than Sans - who wasn’t exactly the tallest monster in the Underground - the kid acted as if she had been a fifty-year-old dictator with a very bad temper.

“They’re gone.” She lifted her eyebrows, when she saw Sans. “Who’s that? Is it a skeleton?”

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry, Chara. I would’ve wanted to present you Sans sooner, but I didn’t want the guards to see him. He’s one of my patients, and I wanted you to talk with him, but he felt… well, he had a minor setback, while we were coming here. He’s still recovering, as you can see. I didn’t want to wake him, but… oh, well…”

Gaster gave Sans a gentle shake, and the little skeleton opened his eye sockets, his eye lights looking dim and sleepy.

 

Had he been convincing enough? Sans hoped so. The yawning, the stretching, the looking confused, with his eyelids half-drooped. Those were all things he didn’t had to struggle very much to do, but he preferred Gaster thinking that Sans had been asleep the whole time, and that the conversation the doctor had with Chara had gone unnoticed.

“Sans, why don’t you say hello to our little guest?” asked Gaster.

“uh… is that… is that a…?”

“Yes, my dear friend. She is indeed a human. But she’s not dangerous at all, so, you can relax. She’s still a child, according to human standards, and, to be more precise, her name is Chara. She’s around nine years old.”

“Nine and a half” specified Chara, narrowing her chocolate-brown eyes.

Sans smiled a little, despite himself. Kids always wanted to precise just how old they were. Sans had always liked children, especially when he succeeded to make them laugh with bad jokes or his funny faces, but he wasn’t sure Chara was a normal kid. There was still that unsettling vibe about her… she had a lot of pent up anger in her soul. That couldn’t be good for a child, not even for a human one.

“heya… ‘m name is sans. nice to meet ya.”

Chara gave him a crooked look, deciding if she liked him or not. Then she shrugged. She didn’t care very much for this Sans guy at all, as long as he didn’t bother her. He seemed harmless enough.

“Nice to meet you too, I guess” she said, as she followed Gaster outside the Core’s heart.

Sans smiled, but his soul was thumping hard against his ribs. Gaster had said that Chara was going to survive the DT extraction, that he wasn’t going to hurt her, but Sans knew exactly how much Gaster’s promises were worth.

All this had to end. One way or the other.

The doctor… the way he had talked about Sans while thinking he was out… as if he had been nothing but a rare specimen in his secret study, had shook Sans deeply. His words about love, in particular, had left Sans feeling like he was an object whose reactions, even the deepest and purest ones, could be produced like a chemical substance to be used in an experiment, and nothing more. Sans loved his brother, and, in all of that, Gaster just saw a way to make DT bind with a monster.

And then, the doctor had talked about involving Papyrus in that experiment, to replicate what had happened with Sans. Gaster wanted to inject Papyrus with DT and use his love for Sans to test if Papyrus, like Sans did, was going to come back from falling down.

But Gaster was going to walk over Sans’ ashes, before something like that happened.

Then, there was also the kid, Chara. Sans didn’t know her. His seeing was all tingly, when staring at her, but she wasn’t evil. She was just… _confused_? Like a person who could either have great potential for both good and bad? It was hard to say, after so much time without practicing his ability due to his soul aches, but the kid needed to be saved.

No one deserved what had happened to Sans. He knew how painful messing with one’s soul truly was, and he didn’t wish it upon anyone, not even Gaster.

Sans was going to get her out of this. He was going to get them ALL out, even if it meant he had to die trying to do so – thing that was likely to happen, if he tried to face a monster as powerful as Gaster.

But, maybe, with the little power he had, Sans could drag the doctor to hell with him. Sometimes, certain people just _HAD_ to be stopped.

So, after taking a deep, shaky breath, Sans gathered the magic that the doctor himself had given him - the magic that he still thought as foreign and wrong because of how destructive it was -, as it wrapped around his left arm and lit his left eye.

“What the – _ngh_!”

Gaster fell on the external platform of the Core, his body under the invisible weight of blue magic. He looked surprised, but there was also a spark of anger in his eyes, when he looked at Sans.

As soon as the doctor had fallen under Sans’ grip, the little skeleton freed himself from his arms and backed off. He was shivering, terrified of his own actions… Of what, soon, was going to happen. He had just damned himself. Gaster was going to destroy him, for this last riot.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Chara’s piercing voice drilled into Sans’ skull, and the kid grasped his shirt, trying to get him to lower his left hand, alight with cyan and yellow magic. “Let him go! He’s going to help-“

“you… you have to run, kid. i don’t know for how long ‘m goin’ to be able to keep him pinned.”

Sans’ voice sounded so small and frail that Chara stopped, letting her grip slacken. The little skeleton was looking at her in a pleading way.

“please… you hafta believe me… he’s already hurt me before, s-so many times. p-please, go. i’ll deal with him. he has to be stopped.”

“Don’t listen to him” grunted Gaster, struggling to get up. The anger Sans had seen for a brief moment had been substituted by a compassionate expression. “The poor thing… he’s not in his right mind! His psyche is really… _fragile_ , to say the least. I told you, Chara: he’s one of my patients.” The doctor’s attention turned to Sans, and he smiled in such a sincere and piteous way that the little skeleton froze. “I know you are really confused right now, Sans, but… please… calm down. I’m your friend… can’t you recognize me? I have just healed you. Please, don’t hurt me. If you’ll let me go, we can talk this out, okay?”

Sans looked at Gaster without saying a word. He couldn’t believe it. The doctor was trying to make Chara think that _Sans_ was the crazy one? That he was having some kind of psychological breakdown?

“how… how can you say that?” Sans whispered, a knot forming in his throat. His eye sockets were filling with tears; they were just coming out, overwhelming, and Sans didn’t even feel them anymore. Those truly were the last ones he had. “even if i’m nothin’ but an experiment to you… how could you have… the _nerve_ …”

The doctor lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I know you are scared, Sans, and that you don’t understand what’s happening, but everything’s fine. No one will punish you for this, you just have to breathe… breathe in, and out… and calm down…”

“n-no. ‘m not… ‘m not crazy! ‘m not… i don’t need to calm down! s-stop saying that, you’re just trying to m-mess with me again! i-i… i… hhh…”

Despite himself, Sans was lowering his hand. What if he was wrong? What if he heard something that hadn’t been there? While he had a crack on his soul, he had been in a delirious state. Maybe what he had seen only existed in his head. Gaster was… his friend, right?

_no, he’s not. he’s not, not anymore! look at yourself, he’s made you incapable of thinkin’ with your head!_

“You’re safe, Sans. No one is going to hurt you.”

Gaster was getting closer. Sans’ magic had weakened enough for him to walk, even though the doctor’s steps were extremely slow. Chara, by Sans’ side, was just watching everything happen, not knowing who she could believe to. She wasn’t sure she liked Dr.Gaster, since he had always had a cold and ominous aura surrounding him; however, Sans looked just as untrustworthy. He was struggling to think, grasping at his face with his bony fingers in a desperate gesture. Maybe he really was having a psychotic episode, and Gaster was just trying to pacify him for all the right reasons.

“how can you… speak like that to my face?” whispered the little skeleton, letting out a whimper. “after all you did to me... after w-what you said you’re gonna do to paps…”

“So, THIS is what upset you… oh, Sans… you just misunderstood, that’s all. I’m not going to hurt your brother. I’m just here to cure you, remember? Didn’t I heal that nasty crack in your soul? Papyrus will be fine, just like you are. Now, please, let me go. I won’t do anything bad to you. I promise.”

Sans was trembling like a leaf.  Maybe Gaster was right. Maybe Sans had just overreacted… his mind was such an entangled mess. It was so much easier to let the doctor tell him that everything was going to be alright, so much easier to let Gaster be in control.

“Yes, my friend. Breathe. Relax. That’s good… let your magic go, you’ll be fine. I’ll look after you, like I always did.”

And Sans would’ve actually let go, if it hadn’t been for a note of self-righteous triumph in Gaster’s voice. The doctor was convinced he had subjugated Sans again, and the slight, almost imperceptible smile he did when he got what he wanted was the thing that betrayed him. Something that not even Sans’ mental confusion could prevent the little skeleton from seeing the truth.

“no.” Sans’ voice changed tone entirely. It was still very sad, but also resigned, as if he had made up his mind for real, this time. “no, i won’t. i won’t let ya hurt anybody else. even if i hafta consume all my magic to make ya stop.” The little skeleton turned towards Chara and tried to smile. “’m fine now, kid. go away, okay? please… save yourself. this magic i have… it’s really dangerous. if i let it out, i might hurt ya, and i don’t want anyone else to get involved in this.”

Chara swallowed. Sans suddenly sounded a lot more coherent. Behind all the confusion and hurt, Chara could see a monster who was very much aware and in control of his mental faculties, and that sent a jolt of fear through her. What did that Gaster guy have in store for her, really? Was he going to reduce her to the same, pitiful state Sans was in?

Chara took a step back.

“Child, where are you going?” asked Gaster, while Sans’ magic was getting stronger and stronger, forcing him to kneel down under its weight a second time. “You don’t believe him, do you? I told you, he’s-“

“I don’t know what’s going on here… but I think you’ll be glad to explain it to Asgore, if it’s nothing fishy, Dr.Gaster.”

The doctor chuckled a little. “Is that so. And how are you going to save monster kind without my help? I’m really curious about what you’re going to say, human, since you seem to have everything figured out. After all, ten years of arrogance are far more important than a thousand or two of study and research. You surely know best, right?”

Sans turned to look at Chara. Desperation was creeping on Sans’ features, transforming his smile into a grimace. “don’t listen to ‘im. sayin’ bullshit is what he does best. c’mon now, run!”

“Child, try to think clearly about this…“

“you hafta escape!”

“…are you going to value the word of a mental case above mine? Even if we don’t like each other that much, our poor Sans here doesn’t even know what’s REAL, so-”

“JUST SHUT UP! YOU’RE NOTHIN’ BUT A DIRTY LIAR!”

Sans let out a muffled scream and, in an attempt to free Chara from Gaster’s influence, he pushed the doctor towards the border of the Core with his magic. Gaster’s face lost almost all its color, and he prevented himself from falling into the pit of hot, boiling magic thirty meters below only thanks to his readiness in grasping a protruding metal bar.

Chara half-jumped, blinking rapidly, and Sans held her arms, while Gaster busied himself with trying to get back on the external ring of the Core.

“don’t think about me, okay? ‘ll be fine, kid. now go and warn the guards ‘bout gaster, they can’t be that far… and, if i… if i don’t make it, someone has to stop him. promise me, please… promise me you’ll tell the king! and, please, save my brother. he’s somewhere down in the lab.”

“SANS…”

_oh god, he’s climbin’ up._

“promise me kid… for my brother…”

“SANS, YOU’RE MAKING IT REALLY HARD FOR ME TO KEEP CALM.”

“p-please, ‘m beggin’ ya here…”

Chara finally snapped out of it, and she nodded. Even though she didn’t even know Sans, the kid thought it didn’t feel right to leave him there. But, if she stayed, she was just going to become another one of Gaster’s experiments. The doctor was too powerful for Sans. And, once Gaster had defeated Sans, no one would’ve been in his way to take Chara to the lab.

What Sans could do, though, was buy her some time to escape.

“Okay. I promise. I’ll tell the king. I’ll find your brother.”

“…thank you. th-thank you s’much, kid.” Sans almost melted in relief, and he gave her a little push. “c’mon now. go.”

Chara gave him a last, hesitant look, and then she finally ran.

“COME BACK! COME BACK, HUMAN, IF YOU DON’T WANT TO-“

Gaster didn’t even mind Sans, getting past him to reach Chara. Sans, in a desperate attempt to stop him, caught the doctor’s legs with his bony arms. Gaster lost his equilibrium and fell on the metal grid with a loud, creaking noise. The entire structure underneath them was becoming unsteady. After all, the Core was a very old machine, and it didn’t receive half the maintenance it should’ve gotten.

Sans squeezed his eye sockets, holding as tight as he could.

“LET ME GO, SANS! YOU… cursed…”

“no! you’ll stay here! i’ll make you-“

Gaster screamed in frustration. He was much stronger than Sans, and, when he finally got a leg out of Sans’ grip, he kicked the little skeleton so hard that he almost sent him over the edge. Sans’ body stopped right on the border, one of his arms rocking in the hot air.

Sans’ ears were ringing, his vision of a blinding white. A sharp pain was throbbing in his skull, where Gaster’s shoe had hit him, and something hot and sticky was dripping from the cracks in his cranium. Sans’ small body was now halfway to fall into the lake of magic that kept the whole Underground alive. The Core’s duty was, after all, to convert geothermal energy into magic. Sans didn’t know what was going to happen, if he actually fell into that substance.

The little skeleton tried to get up, but a shoe pressed on his chest, keeping him down and squeezing all the air out of his ribcage.

Gaster had completely lost his mind to rage. His eyes were flashing a deep, angry purple.

“This is the last time you get in my way, Sans. I have made you strong, I have looked after you, I have even healed your soul- and THIS is how you THANK me?!”

He pushed a little harder, and Sans’ ribs creaked and popped painfully.

“ngh- gast… s-stop…”

“No, dear friend. You have crossed the line this time, and you are going to pay dearly for this.”

The pressure was unbearable. Gaster was going to burst his ribcage open, at that pace. Sans had to do something, he had to-

Before he could even think, a wave of magic swelled in Sans’ soul, and broke through in a raw, white stream, in a desperate attempt to defend the life of its owner.

Gaster screamed, jumping back to avoid it, and he landed heavily on the loosened metal grids.

The same moment the doctor’s feet touched the metal, something snapped with a sharp noise, and the grids opened below him in a waterfall of orange sparks, the metals grinding against each other.

“gaster!”

Sans crawled towards the hole. Metal bars were sticking out from each side, and the gash looked like a bite left from a humongous creature.

The little skeleton’s soul was pounding painfully. Half of his ribs had been cracked under Gaster’s foot, and he had to struggle just to move, trying to contain his sobs, so the pain wouldn’t make him pass out.

Sans leaned on the edge of the hole, and his soul gave a hard thump, when he saw that Gaster was only a meter below, trying desperately to not fall. His hands were losing their grip on the edge of the metal grid that was breaking further with every little movement he made. If Gaster had tried to move a hand to use his magic right now, he would’ve fallen. He was trapped.

When he saw Sans, he wheezed painfully.

“Sans…! Sans, you’re alive… thank, God, I thought I had killed you…”

The little skeleton swallowed, looking at the doctor. Sans had to use all his determination to lift an arm and put it over the edge. Something in his chest popped menacingly, but Sans didn’t care.

“take… take my hand” he whispered, his fingers a bare twenty centimeters away from Gaster’s.

“Sans, you can’t… you’re too small. I’ll just drag you down with me.”

The doctor’s voice had lost all its coldness, and resembled more the one of the monster Sans had met in the lab ages before. The lonely genius who didn’t know how to deal with people. The monster who still had some warmth in his heart. His friend.

“th-then… i’ll use my magic…”

Sans tapped into his reserves, almost completely drained after the explosion of raw magic his soul had mustered before. He didn’t even know how that had happened.

Sans’ hand lit up with a faint blue color and sputtered a little, before vanishing like the flame of a candle in the wind.

“oh, no… no, no, no… c’mon, don’t-“

“Sans.”

“no, doc, i got this, i can do it.. please… just work…”

“Sans… Sans, it’s fine.”

“NO! no, it’s not! no, it’s… it’s… gaster, c’mon, take my hand! please! just stretch, you can reach-“

Sans chocked on his words, looking at Gaster. The doctor seemed to finally be… at peace with himself. And, for once, it wasn’t an act… Sans could _see_ it.

“Sans, I told you… it’s alright. This is…” Gaster sighed, and he smiled bitterly. The metal grid loosened a little more, with a sharp shriek. “This was bound to happen, sooner or later. I should have died a long time ago, while I was fighting the war. I… you know, sometimes I wished we could’ve known each other before everything crumbled down. When I was still worth saving.”

“no, stop, don’t talk like that- you’re just bein’ dramatic like always- c’mon, take my hand-“

“Look at yourself. You’re always there, trying to help me, while I’ve been nothing but cruel… and monstrous… and you just wanted to comfort me, you foolish… k-kind-“ Gaster’s voice broke. “I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you, Sans. I’ll make sure that this is the last time I hurt you. You’re right. I need to be stopped.”

“no… you… JUST TAKE MY HAND, DON’T LET-“

But Gaster wasn’t there anymore. It took Sans a few seconds to realize that the doctor had fallen into the gurgling pit of magic below.

The little skeleton’s arm dangled from the hole, useless. His body and soul were completely hollow. This… this hadn’t really happened. Everything felt so unreal, so... far and grey, as if Sans had been looking at himself through a wall of static.

“gaster… g-gaster…”

Sans was just repeating the doctor’s name, looking at the concentric waves of magic that were raising on the lake’s surface. That was the point the doctor had fallen in.

Maybe he was still alive. Maybe Sans could-

And, sudden like the flash of a photograph, Sans, the Core, the guards that were just then arriving to the Core guided by Chara… _everything_ , was swallowed by an absolute white light.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this, I was almost crying at the end, because I'm a sentimental schmuck.


	4. What's real?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans wakes up after Gaster's death and tries to put the pieces back together. Literally.  
> A grumpy Blaster makes an appearance.

Papyrus was laying in his bed, hugging an ugly but very much loved plushie that Sans had made him when they were kids. It was a femur with two buttons for eyes and a lazy smile on its face – admitting that bones could have faces –, but the coolest thing about it was the little red cloak that accompanied it, that made it seem like a little super hero.

The house was silent, the only noise coming from the clock on Papyrus’ nightstand. He didn’t really need to set the alarm for the morning, since he always woke up before it started ringing, but, since the wall between Papyrus’ and Sans’ room was very thin, the alarm’s job was mostly to wake up his brother.

However, for the first time in years, Sans was the one who woke up Papyrus.

The tall skeleton implied a few minutes to understand that the muffled whimpers were not a residue of his dreams, but were coming from the wall before him.

“Sans?” he whispered, his voice still sleepy and confused.

“no… no, no…”

Sans’ voice was small and full of anguish. He was probably having a nightmare.

Papyrus used to be accustomed to his brother’s unquiet nights, but Sans’ sleep had been mostly regular since they had left the orphanage and started living on their own. Sans was that kind of person that, when he was feeling badly, he did his best to press his feelings into a bottle and lock it somewhere deep down in his mind, where he thought they couldn’t bother anyone else, especially Papyrus. But, in the end, his anxiety had always found a way to be heard, and it emerged through his dreams. Papyrus remembered that, when they were kids, Sans had felt trapped in the orphanage, and so he often dreamed about being tied down, or not being able to breathe. Maybe he was reliving some of that bad stuff, right now.

Papyrus got out of his bed, leaving the plushie on the pillow. He dragged his feet towards the corridor that separated their rooms. It was only a few meters, but sometimes it felt like a big distance. They had struggled a lot to sleep apart, since, in the orphanage, they had always snuggled in the same bed to keep each other company.

Papyrus looked at the clock hung over the sofa, and grimaced. Four in the morning. Well, wasn’t that just peachy. The Great Papyrus slept only a few hours per night, but those hours, precisely because of that, were sacred. When something awoke him, it meant the whole day was going to be a struggle. Even though Papyrus always put through it with the same, cheerful demeanor.

Papyrus rubbed his eye sockets to push away the last remnants of sleep, and knocked on Sans’ door.

“Sans. It’s me. Can I come in?”

“… hhh… hnnnooo…”

Papyrus took that as a “yes, please, do”, and slowly opened the door. The smell of Sans’ room hit him like a brick wall, making him wince. Good grief! When was the last time Sans had washed that sock collection of his? He was going to hear Papyrus, after all this was over.

The tall skeleton walked towards Sans’ bed, that consisted in a mattress laid on the ground. The little, chubby frame of his brother was entangled in the cover decorated with a starry pattern that Papyrus had given him for his last birthday. Sans was struggling to free himself, but the cover was wrapped too tightly around his spine and ribcage. There it was the reason why Sans was so scared. He was probably dreaming about being trapped.

Papyrus sat on the mattress – Where those _potato chips crumbs_? Oh, God, his brother was such a slob, sometimes – and gently shook Sans’ left shoulder.

“Sans…”

“hmn… ngh! t-take my hand… don’t let go…”

“Sans.”

“m-my fault… i… i pushed him…”

“SANS!”

The little skeleton jumped and a muffled scream came out of his mouth. He almost fell from the mattress, but Papyrus caught him just in time.

In a second, Papyrus understood that this time a bad dream wasn’t the only thing that was wrong with his brother. Sans’ bones were covered in sweat pearls, and he was boiling hot to the touch.

Sans looked around with his eye sockets wide open. He seemed to be completely lost.

“where… where am i? where’s the d-doctor? we… we were outside the core just now and i was tryin’ to save him, but… he wouldn’t take my hand, he just _wouldn’t_ , and i was too weak to do anythin’ about it-“

“SANS.” Papyrus’ raised his voice, and cupped his hands around Sans’ skull, making his brother look him in the eyes. “Sans… it was all a bad dream… you’re safe. We’re in our house… you must have partied like a bad bone at Grillby’s! I told you that you shouldn’t drink so much ketchup before going to bed. It always makes you sleep badly-“

Instead of being comforted by his brother’s words, Sans recoiled in horror, pushing Papyrus’ hands away. Sans shook his head vehemently.

“no. no, i was in the core! i remember it clearly… there was a white light… and then, i woke up here, in my bed. how’s this possible? how-“

“Sans… please, try to calm down…”

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!” Sans exploded, and he suddenly got up. He pointed a trembling index against Papyrus, who was staring at him, puzzled and wounded. “’M NOT CRAZY, OKAY? ‘M NOT! SO DON’T TELL ME IT WASN’T REAL! I- i…” Sans realized how he had been yelling at his brother, and his shoulders slouched under the weight of shame. “i… i was there… ‘m not insane… i… ‘m sayin’ the truth, i swear…”

Sans’ voice now sounded like a plea. Papyrus’ soul tightened in seeing his desperate expression, that was saying clearly “please, you have to believe me”.

“Of course I believe you, brother” said Papyrus, getting closer to him a second time. “I always do.”

A relieved, crooked smile crossed Sans’ face. “oh… thank you… th-thank you pap…”

And then, without a warning, his eye lights extinguished, and he collapsed on the floor.

 

 

When Sans came back to his senses, he was in a small and cozy room, enlightened by the dreamy, blue light of magical crystals. He blinked a few times, as he tried to understand where he was.

The artificial light of the lanterns that illuminated the Underground came into the room through a wide, round window with a view on a pretty garden. The grass was inhabited by a sea of buttercups, their yellow heads swinging gently in the winds that came from the depths of the Earth.

Sans swallowed and tried to sit. His body was heavy and his arms weak. Someone had wrapped him up in a blanket and made him wear a white robe, decorated with a polka dot pattern.

Oh. So he was at the hospital.

What had happened? The last thing he remembered… was… was…

Sans struggled to think. There was something, somewhere in his mind, but it was like trying to catch water with a fork.

A fuzzy feeling enveloped his chest, and Sans realized that someone had connected a stream of green magic to his soul. The little organ was thumping quietly between his ribs, and it looked a little dimmer than usual. There was a big, grey streak that went from the bottom of his soul almost to its peak, and it completely snuffed out the light underneath.

Anguish rose in Sans’ mind. That wasn’t good. Just looking at that mark made something stir in his memory. When and how did he get that?

He sighed and slouched against the pillows. He turned his head towards his nightstand, and a smile melted his worries away. The nightstand was covered with “get well soon” letters, all written by Papyrus. Sans could have recognized the big, squared calligraphy of his brother between a million, and he passed a good half hour reading his messages.

“DEAR BROTHER,

THE GREAT PAPYRUS WISHES YOU THE BEST. I HAVE BEEN TAKING CARE OF THE HOUSE IN YOUR ABSENCE, AND I HAVE PROVIDED THAT LITTLE ANNOYING DOG OF YOURS WITH THE NUTRITION IT NEEDS. I HAVE CLEANED YOUR ROOM AND ORGANIZED YOUR SOCK COLLECTION BY COLOUR – EVEN THOUGH I COULD HAVE REORGANIZED IT BY SMELL. IT IS INCREDIBLE HOW EACH ONE OF YOUR SOCKS REEKS OF A DIFFERENT KIND OF CHEESE.

I KNOW YOU CANNOT ANSWER RIGHT NOW, BUT I HOPE THEY ARE TREATING YOU WELL. WHEN I COME TO CHECK ON YOU, YOU ARE ALWAYS SLEEPING, SO I WRITE DOWN WHAT I WANT TO SAY TO YOU. THE NURSE LADY SAYS THAT YOU ARE JUST IN NEED OF REST. “YOUR BROTHER IS EXHAUSTED”, SHE SAYS. I WONDER HOW THAT CAN BE, SINCE YOU COULD NAP EVEN ON A NAIL BED – PLEASE DON’T DO THAT THOUGH, IT IS NOT A CHALLENGE.

I HOPE YOU WAKE UP SOON.

SIGNED: THE GREAT PAPYRUS.

PS: Even though you smell of ketchup, I miss you dearly, brother. Please, wake up soon.”

Sans wiped his cheeks with the hospital gown. His brother always managed to make him tear up like a baby. The fact that Sans was a sappy idiot didn’t help at all.

A sudden noise made Sans lift his gaze, and he noticed that he wasn’t alone anymore. A fox like monster with thick, white fur was staring at him from the entrance of the room. She was holding a medical file in her paws, and her big, attentive yellow eyes made Sans feel uneasy.

“So, we finally got up, Mr.Sans.”

Oh, the habit doctors had of using the plural. For some reason, it was both funny and unsettling.

“heh… here i am, i guess” Sans said, trying to smile.

The fox monster got closer, and Sans’ soul started to pound uncomfortably. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did her white cloak make him sweat?

“My name is Dr.Frake. I am the doctor that has been following your case in the last week. Right now, you are in the Capital’s hospital.”

Sans chocked on his breath. “in the last… was i out for that long?”

Dr.Frake lifted her furry eyebrows, and nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. Your brother called the emergency number early in the morning, almost eight days ago. He told us you had an extremely vivid nightmare and that you had fainted. He tried to wake you up, but he couldn’t, so he brought you to the medical clinic in Snowdin. However, they didn’t have the equipment necessary to treat you there, so you were transferred here. Now, Mr.Sans…” She hesitated for a moment and sat down at his side. She put a hand on his arm in a soothing gesture, and Sans barely resisted the urge to recoil. Dr.Frake seemed to be a kind individual… why was he so freaked out? “… we have examined your magic, and it came to our attention that you had a worrying amount of scar tissue on your soul. We have smoothed it out, but… we must tell you that what’s left of the scar will be… well, permanent.”

Sans held his hands over his chest, trying to keep calm. “what does that entail? am i… am i goin’ to die or somethin’?”

“Absolutely not, Mr.Sans. But it could give you some problems.” Dr.Frake closed the medical chart and looked at him in the eyes. They were kind and yellow, with tiny orange droplets near the pupils… Sans didn’t know why, for a moment, he thought they had been razor sharp, burning with purple flames. Dr.Frake extended a paw and, with a gentle movement, invited Sans’ soul to come out of his ribcage in order to look at it. She pointed at the grey area on the organ. “This was common during the war, or in times of great stress. Monster soul used to break under the weight of loss and fear. Nowadays, it happens very sparsely. I’ve only seen a few cases in my whole career, including yours, and having your soul broken so deeply leaves a mark on you… even though it has been healed by… quite an expert with magic, it seems? Have you been to a doctor, before coming here, or did your brother do it for you?”

“oh… ah… i dunno. i mean… pap’s great, but…”

Dr.Frake noticed that Sans had started to hyperventilate, and she put a paw on his back, massaging his spine. The act seemed to pacify the skeleton a little, as he relaxed in her hold.

_she’s not here to hurt me. she’s nice. stop freakin’ out._

“Well, it doesn’t matter right now, does it?” Dr.Frake said, smiling to him. “The important thing is that you woke up from your little slumber. You will be able to go back to the coziness of your house and the loving care of your brother very soon. He’s a really nice guy, isn’t he?”

Talking about Papyrus always made Sans feel at ease, and he smiled. “yea, he is. I don’t know where i’d be without him. love him lots.”

“From how he behaves around you, I can tell he loves you in the same way. He has even tried to feed you homemade pasta while we were looking away. According to him, the hospital’s food wasn’t nutritious enough.”

Sans chuckled. His brother had always been an overly protective mama bear, when it came to Sans’ wellbeing.

“yea. he always tries to feed me. not that i mind, as you can see” said Sans, patting his invisible stomach. “anyways… what about this scar i have? isn’t there a way to make it reabsorb, or…?”

Dr.Frake frowned. “Unfortunately, no. But it will fade with time and become less overbearing. For the next few months, though, you could feel a little disoriented at times, or show signs of depression. My advice is that you find a good soul doctor near your town and see them when you feel the need to talk.” She extracted a notebook from one of her pockets and scribbled a name down. She ripped the page and gave it to Sans, who stared at it blankly. “There you go. He’s really good and a friend of mine as well, so you can trust him.”

The little skeleton remembered that he was supposed to show gratitude, and he tried to smile.

“thank you, doctor. heh… i don’t even remember what happened to me in the first place, and i’m here with an ugly scar on my soul. isn’t that weird?”

The doctor resumed rubbing his back. “No. It’s not weird. And it’s not even wrong, Sans… can I call you Sans?”

“y-yea, of course.”

“You see, after someone experiences a traumatic episode, it’s very common to remove it. Your mind is just trying to protect you from something that you are not ready to face right now. You just need to give it time. One day, maybe not today, maybe not the next, you’ll start to feel better. It’s important that you keep yourself in contact with a soul doctor, though, and talk about how you feel. Understood?”

Sans nodded and covered his mouth with a hand to hide a yawn. He was starting to feel tired. Not even a week of intense “napping”, as Papyrus would’ve called it, had been enough to restore his feeble energies.

“okay. i’ll do it.”

Dr.Frake didn’t seem completely satisfied with his response, but she accepted it anyway.

“We’ll check on you one last time, and then we’ll send you home. Is it okay with you if we call your brother to pick you up?”

Sans nodded. He was already half asleep. “yea… check me all you want… imma just… rest a little, now. all this talkin’ made me... _bone tired_.”

The doctor blinked, surprised by the joke, and then she chuckled to herself for how bad it was. That little skeleton surely was one weird patient, but not an unpleasant one. Who could’ve harmed such a sweet creature so badly that he had his soul crack under the pressure? 

 

 

After that last discussion with Dr.Frake, Papyrus brought Sans back home, and in the next weeks he refused to let Sans do anything by himself. He was there when Sans got up, making sure he ate a complete breakfast; he was there when Sans was walking around in Snowdin, searching for a good spot in the snow to nap on or someone to chat with; and he started to follow Sans even when he was heading to the bathroom.

Sans was a really patient guy, but even he had his limits, and one day he couldn’t take Papyrus’ overprotectiveness anymore.

“paps, ya know that i love ya to bits, but- can i please go wash my bones without you waitin’ outside the bathroom? it weirds me out a little.”

“BUT WHAT IF YOU HAVE ANOTHER… you know… _EPISODE_ , AND YOU FALL OFF THE BATHTUB AND HIT YOUR HEAD AND-“

“papyrus… look at me. i’m a grown ass skeleton, okay?”

“WELL, GROWN ISN’T THE WORD I’D USE, BROTHER. AND THE SECOND IS REALLY LEWD, SO I WON’T REPEAT IT.”

Sans tried to give him a stern look, but Papyrus’ observations about his not so high highness always made him laugh.

“that… that really wounds me, bro. ya know ‘m sensitive ‘bout my height.”

“THE ONLY THING YOU’RE SENSITIVE ABOUT IS WHEN SOMEONE CRITICIZES YOUR TASTE IN FOOD.”

“well, grillby’s burgers are the best, you are the one who doesn’t get- ah, forget it.” Sans grasped his brother’s shirt to make Papyrus kneel down, and then he hugged him. “listen to me, now. i know you’re worried ‘bout me, but ‘s not like ‘m gonna collapse somewhere again. ‘s been a month already, without any problems. and i’m seein’ that doctor, right?” Sans hesitated. Well, at least he had _tried_ to see the doctor. He had even called him, once, but- well, he had hung up the phone, shivering like a frightened child. But that was his problem, not Papyrus’. “i’m… talkin’ it out with him. ‘m feelin’ better. you can’t be waitin’ all the time for somethin’ to happen to me, ‘kay? if i need help, i’ll ask for it.”

Papyrus sighed deeply. The problem was that Sans always tried to make everything on his own, and he didn’t share half of his gloomy thoughts.

“Okay, brother. I’ll believe you. But… DON’T HESITATE TO CALL THE GREAT PAPYRUS, IF YOU NEED SOMETHING. ANYTHING.”

Sans chuckled a little. “yea, ehm… ‘bout that… if you have a clean shirt to lend me…? ya know… i forgot to do the laundry again-“

“THERE IT IS! YOU’RE SUCH A LAZY BONES, I SWEAR- WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO DO, WHEN YOU RAN OUT OF CLOTHES? JUST GO AROUND BARE BONES?“

Sans grinned. “well, why do ya think i like livin’ with ya so much? i always have your clothes, if i forget!”

Papyrus gritted his teeth and exited the bathroom, grumbling to himself about how Sans made him lose his marbles.

The little skeleton laughed, as he was undressing; he left the one-week stinking hoodie and pants on the floor, and climbed into the bathtub. Soon after, Papyrus threw an xxxl orange shirt on the ground, before going to do the laundry at Sans’ place.

“THIS IS THE LAST TIME, BROTHER!”

“okay.”

“I WON’T DO IT FOR YOU NEXT TIME!”

“okay.”

“AND STOP SAYING OKAY!”

“ok-… uh… yea.”

And then, Papyrus left Sans alone.

 

 _Finally_.

 

Sans let out a sigh and opened the sink. Hot water started to pour into the bathtub, engulfing his bones. The warmth, that little comfort, was what he had needed all day.

He had spent it doing nothing, like always – or that was what Papyrus thought.

After having his lunch as breakfast – he never managed to crawl out of his bed before twelve o’ clock -, Sans always wondered in the Underground, searching for things that could jog his memory. In the last weeks the feeling of disorientation Dr.Frake had talked him about had gotten more intense: he had started to remember… _things_. Very ugly and unsettling things.

Images about being tied down on a metal table, or about Sans trying to protect Papyrus from a shadow with purple eyes, or, again, about Sans not being able to save someone important because he was too weak to do anything.

The memories always hit him suddenly, without a specific cause, and oh boy, if they hit hard. Sometimes they left him wheezing in the snow on his knees, while his mind was processing the new information.

After a month, he still hadn’t cleared everything, but he had painted a picture in his head, and he was sure enough that it had been very real, even though everything and everyone was telling him that those were nothing but dreams. Or, maybe, his mind had just snapped like a twig, and had created some convoluted justification for the scar on his soul.

To make a resume of the delirium that was tormenting him, the timeline Sans had put together was the following: once, Sans had worked for someone to whom he had gotten pretty close. Their job had to do with something scientific, really important for the future of monster kind. However, one day, his friend had started to show another side of himself, a pretty terrifying one to say the least, and had performed some freakish experiments on Papyrus and Sans.

In the end, Sans had gotten the best of his friend. Sans’ wretched, puny self, had caused his death, somehow. When he thought about those memories in particular, his ribcage and skull hurt under an invisible pressure, and, most of all, his soul started to ache in a nauseating way.

But, no matter how much Sans struggled, no matter if he wrote down how and what he felt… he couldn’t remember more than that. It was as if everything that had happened had been erased from existence, and no one remembered. Sans, on the other hand, only had snippets here and there.

The thing he remembered more clearly than everything was a blinding, white light.

That raw explosion of magic that had been summoned after the death of his friend had acted like an erasing gum… it had cancelled the doctor out of existence, even though most of his most important actions were still there. And it had even erased almost all of Sans’ memories, leaving a hole in his heart and mind, where his friend had once been.

_i hafta remember more. i hafta try. ‘s important this time._

Sans closed his eye sockets and dove deep into the water, holding his breath. His skull filled with hot water, and that sensation soothed him. Being surrounded by water helped him to isolate in his own world and think.

There was indeed one more thing.

Something was _wrong_ with Sans. Deeply wrong. While he had been on the Core… talking to… _trying to kill_?... his old friend, his soul had evoked a weird kind of magic. Sans knew that the doctor had tried to mold him into some kind of warrior – he, a warrior! he, that couldn’t even tie his own shoelaces because he was such an irredeemable ne'er-do-well –, but, whatever kind of magic had been activated while they were in the Core, it wasn’t the doctor who had given it to him. It had been something born from Sans himself, and _that_ was what scared him the most. Was he… really capable of creating such a destructive magic? It hadn’t been blue magic… no, that was the doctor’s doing. That… _thing_ … instead, had been Sans’ true magic, something that he thought was limited to his _seeing_ , and had revealed another, far creepier side to it. _Something_ had come to save his life… to kill… when Sans had felt like he was going to die. No excuses, no doctors involved in that.

But that… that wasn’t even the end of it. The monstrous thing Sans had evoked wasn’t the most worrying aspect of everything that had happened.

The true problem was that Sans knew that he _shouldn’t have_ remembered about his friend.

Why did Sans remember, little as he might, if Papyrus didn’t? If no one else did? Had it truly all been a dream?

Suddenly, the image of a syringe filled with pink substance flashed through Sans’ mind, and a red sensation, burning like fire, gripped his soul.

Sans’ panicked and tried to grasp the sides of the bathtub, but his fingers were too wet to get a solid grip. He felt like he was drowning, but then, he managed to grab the pink curtains of the bathtub and to pull himself up.

Sans gasped for air, shivering. His fingers dug in his ribcage, and he extracted his soul out of its place. Taking it out made him feel a little less overwhelmed.

That thing was giving him such a hard time… and he couldn’t even understand how it worked anymore.

What had that last image been about?

Sans held his soul tighter, as if to squeeze the information he needed out of it, but he only managed to make himself whimper in pain.

He let the soul go with a sigh, and he stared at it, letting the soul hovering over the water. That nasty scar. It was still as horrid as the first day. All that “time heals” bullshit was making Sans want to throw up.

**Well… maybe, if you actually went to the soul doctor Mrs.Frake had told you about…**

Sans winced. That nagging voice again. His conscience couldn’t leave him alone, huh?

“i tried” he whispered to himself. “really. i just… i can’t. i can’t do it. i’m too afraid somethin’ like _that_ could happen again.”

**Something like what?**

“like trustin’ someone enough to let them in. paps’ ‘s the only person i need. i… i can’t trust anyone else. especially doctors. they give me goosebumps... heh.”

Maybe the soul doctor could help him remember better and make peace with the past… his dreams… or whatever was bothering him so much. Real or not, it had left a mark on him, but Sans still couldn’t face the idea to expose himself in such a deep way. It was too much. He was already doing his best, and, even though it wasn’t enough, he was really trying. What else could he do? He just wanted to leave everything behind. He didn’t want to bother anyone with his stupid problems, especially Papyrus.

His brother had a life, everyone loved him, and Sans couldn’t always rely on him for help. He already bothered him enough. He had… he had ruined his life already once, and that wasn’t going to happen again.

**What did you do to him that is so bad?**

Sans gritted his teeth.

“’s my fault.”

**For what?**

“THE HELL IF I REMEMBERED!”

In a moment of rage, Sans threw his soul away. In the same moment he did it, he realized that it had been a very, very stupid idea.

The invisible thread connecting Sans to his soul snapped, and his body instantly slumped in the bathtub, without the warmth of his soul giving it life.

Sans’ perspective instantly shifted, and he found himself staring at his own body. His eye sockets were closed, his cranium and right arm abandoned on the edge of the bathtub. His chest wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing anymore.

That was just an empty shell.

Sans was trapped in his soul.

He tried to call for his brother, but no voice left him, because he didn’t have a mouth.

_oh, god… what did i do… papyrus, please, come here! you always guess when i do somethin’ stupid! please… help…_

But, no matter how much he pleaded, it took Papyrus a whole half an hour to go check on Sans.

Papyrus knocked on the door.

“SANS?”

_‘m here! ‘m here, please, help… help me… ‘m such an idiot- i told you to not worry, and here i am on the floor-_

“SANS, IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?”

Papyrus’ paranoia got the best of him, and he opened the bathroom door. After a moment of shocked silence, he ran towards Sans’ body and scooped it up in his arms.

Sans’ feet and arms were dangling from Papyrus’ embrace, while his brother was vainly trying to revive him.

“GOD, NOT AGAIN… SANS! SANS, CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

He tapped Sans’ cheekbones, getting more desperate by the second.

Sans, in the meanwhile, was feeling like trash – more than usual, anyway – for making his brother cry. If only Papyrus could hear him-

“Wait… where’s your soul, brother?”

_‘m here! ‘m here, please, pick me up! put me back in! i was so stupid-_

Papyrus looked around, and Sans almost melted in relief, when he saw him – his soul.

The tall skeleton pressed a hand on his mouth, and, when he put himself back together, he leaned Sans’ hollow body on the bathroom’s carpet.

“Good grief… what did you do to yourself?”

Papyrus picked up Sans’ soul as if it had been extremely precious, and put it on Sans chest.

Sans blacked out for a moment, feeling invisible shackles binding him to his body again, and the next moment he inhaled sharply, back in control of himself.

That- that had been scary. Really, really scary. For a moment, Sans had thought he was going to be stuck inside the walls of his own soul forever, unable to move or speak.

“BROTHER!”

Papyrus’ wrapped him in a towel and hugged him tight. He sounded immensely relieved, but also angry. And anger wasn’t a very common thing in Papyrus at all.

“BROTHER, WHAT DID YOU DO?! WERE YOU TRYING TO- WHAT WERE YOU THINKING ABOUT, TAKING YOUR SOUL OUT AND LEAVING IT ON THE GROUND?”

“’m sorry… i was so frustrated, and- and angry… i was tryin’ to remember- but… oh god, i was so scared! ‘m sorry! thank god you were here, i didn’t know what i would’ve done, if you hadn’t been- i…”

Papyrus’ features softened, and he shushed Sans with another hug. “Calm down. I’m not… mad, okay? I was just worried. You didn’t do this on purpose, right? You weren’t trying to… hurt yourself.”

Sans was really feeling like the grossest piece of garbage in the Underground’s dump. Something that had been left to rot in the water for a few weeks, after being chewed on by rats.

“no. no, no, i swear- i was just tryin’ to clear my head. ‘m so angry with myself, ‘cause  i don’t know WHY i’m this way, and i was holdin’ my soul, and… it was just a moment, really! i… i _threw_ it.”

“WHAT.”

“please don’t get mad-“

“SANS! WHAT THE- BROTHER! YOU _THREW_ YOUR SOUL?”

Hearing Papyrus saying it was even worse. Sans just looked at him, shrinking under his stare.

“it won’t… it won’t happen again. i promise. i was so scared- i didn’t know somethin’ like this could even happen. i was seeing everything from inside my soul! and i couldn’t ask for help… it was horrible.”

Papyrus was burning with indignation, but he let it go and sighed deeply.

“NYEH... COME HERE… I GUESS THE SCARE WAS ALREADY TRAUMATIZING ENOUGH.”

Sans clung onto his brother like a terrified koala and didn’t let go, not even when Papyrus tried to tuck him in his bed.

“please, don’t leave me ‘lone.”

Papyrus sighed again and sat at Sans’ side. His brother was still shivering and hugging him in search of some comfort.

“What were you trying to remember, anyway?” said the tall skeleton, while rubbing Sans’ skull.

“i… it’s about the doctor. you know, the one that experimented on me.”

“Oh, Sans, we have talked about this a BILLION times. It was just a dream-“

“no. no, it wasn’t paps. please, you hafta believe me.” Sans sat up and held Papyrus’ hands, placing them over his chest. “you saw my soul. it has that big scar on it, right?”

“YES. DOES IT STILL HURT SO BADLY?”

“wha- no, no. it hurts sometimes, but ‘s nothin’ so dramatic. what i wanted to say, though, is that you _saw_ it. my scar is real. ‘m not imaginin’ it. and how in the world could my soul have broken without someone doin’ it to me, huh? i may be weak, but- not _that_ weak. my soul can’t possibly have crumbled without some kind of external cause!”

Papyrus hesitated for a brief moment, and Sans felt wounded, even if he knew his brother didn’t really mean to offend him.

_i’m not that weak. i’m not._

“you believe me, right? you said you believed me, that day.”

“WELL- YES. YES, I BELIEVE YOU, BROTHER. IF YOU FEEL THIS WAY, THERE _MUST_ BE A REASON. BUT HOW COULD SOMEONE THAT NO ONE REMEMBERS HAVE DONE THIS TO YOU? IT’S… impossible…”

Sans swallowed. “yea. yea, i know. that’s what’s drivin’ me crazy. i… i don’t even know what’s _real_ anymore. everythin’ feels like a dream. i don’t know if ‘m awake or not, right now. sometimes i feel like the d-dreams were more real than this… than us bein’ in our house, with everyone happy and doin’ fine. god, i wish i could just forget-“

Papyrus couldn’t bare seeing his brother like that, and he hugged Sans. “If you want me to, I can use some magic on you. So you can- you know, sleep a little. Would that help you?”

Sans stayed quiet.

“i don’t… i dunno, paps.”

“Why?”

“every time i sleep, i have those dreams… ‘n i don’t want them. i dream about us bein’ locked in a lab, and… bad things happen. i can’t see you get hurt, it’s too much for me. and it’s _so_ real, always! i feel like it happened, paps- maybe somewhere else, in another life- i don’t even know anymore! i feel like ‘m gonna explode, if these thoughts don’t leave me ‘lone!”

Papyrus started to rub Sans’ spine in the way that always relaxed him, and his brother’s ragged breathing smoothened a little.

“’s always really bad. i just want everythin’ to end… to be my old self, yanno? i wanna say bad jokes and have some real bad laughs… and read some science-y books, and… and actually get a job, so ya won’t hafta pay for the house! ‘m the one who pays, at least i hafta do that, after everythin’ ya do for me. i don’t wanna be a burden, yanno?” Sans yawned, relaxing more. Papyrus was pouring a little healing magic in him, without Sans noticing. He was too busy rambling for that. “i kinda miss doin’ the science thing, but- i don’t think i can enter a lab without havin’ a mental breakdown or somethin’, now, and it’s out of the question i go back to work there. labs are bad. doctors… heck, they scare me dead. i… i just want to live a simple life, in peace. is that so bad?”

“Abso-positively-lutely not, brother.”

“but then… there’s also that weird magic i got- you know, the glowy thingy?”

“Yes. The one you use to prank me. I know that far too well.”

“hehe. well, that isn’t my magic. i mean, the only thing i’ve ever been able to do is _seeing_. The doctor was the one who gave me the glowy thing. however, since he fell in the core, i started to evoke some weird magic that’s not connected to the experiments the doctor performed on us. that _thing_ comes out when ‘m scared or angry and… it destroys everythin’. if i can create somethin’ so… destructive and horrible, does it mean that i’m bad or-”

“No. Of course no, brother. Don’t even think about that.”

“yea… knew you’d say that, bro… ya always see the best in people… but i feel like i’ve done really, really nasty things- like ‘m evil or somethin… and my magic has just become as rotten as me.  i just… j-just… can’t understand myself any… more…”

Sans sleepiness got the best of him, and he relaxed completely in Papyrus’ hold. The tall skeleton laid on Sans’ side and stared at the ceiling, while Sans was resting his head on his shoulder, snoring quietly, finally at peace.

Sans was keeping to say that he was bad, and he always looked so guilty because of it.

Papyrus couldn’t really understand why he was being so harsh with himself… Sans was the best person in his life. Why did he have to talk about himself in such a demeaning way?

Dr.Frake had talked about possible depressive spikes during the long recovery period of a scarred soul… maybe Sans’ struggles were linked to that. God knew if Sans didn’t think way too much about things. He needed to busy himself with an activity that could bring him some comfort. A job, a hobby, or something.

Papyrus just wanted Sans to be happy, and he suffered as much as him, in seeing his brother like this.

He had to do something.

 

 

Sans wheezed, falling on his knees. He pressed a hand on his chest, as he tried to not give in to the sudden weakness. He could feel the snow swallowing his tibias and fibulas, sending shivers in his body.

When Sans’ gaze came back into focus, he realized that the burning smell he had felt was coming from a wide, gaping hole right through the trees. A few pine trees had fallen to the ground, resembling broken vertebrae. Their extremes were smoking, but the snow had already put out the fires that the beam of raw white magic had created.

A few, scared bunnies were still running frantically through the snow, in search of a hiding spot.

Sans felt a twinge of guilt for frightening them, as he helped himself to his feet. His knees were wobbling under his weight, and his breath felt shallow, as if his ribcage couldn’t hold more than a few milligrams of air.

“hah… hah… paps… w-why did ya hafta sign me up for that?”

He couldn’t even control his magic… that frighteningly powerful magic, that melted his strength like butter on a pan only after a few uses, reducing him to a shivering heap on the ground… and Papyrus had thought that it would’ve been a great idea to subscribe Sans to the next sentries’ selections.

The only thing Sans was sure about, was that his magic was extremely unstable. He still felt like it was alien and dangerous, a mutant arm someone had sown on his body without his consent; and now, lucky him, Sans had to just deal with it, hoping it wouldn’t strangle him if he didn’t pay enough attention to how he used it.

“okay… okay, maybe one more time-“

Sans mopped the snow away from his coat before it could get soaked, and sighed deeply.

Why did Papyrus have to care so much for Sans’ mental well-being to the point of actually taking action? Why couldn’t Papyrus just leave Sans to dwell in his misery until he melted into a sad puddle? At least he wouldn’t have been able to hurt anyone, that way.

Because Sans was completely sure his magic was going to hurt someone during the selections. Hurt them _badly_. The sole thought horrified him.

And the worst part was that Sans couldn’t allow himself to be afraid, because that stupid magic of his was deeply linked to his emotions: if Sans got scared enough, it was going to explode, like that day, when… when the doctor fell.

Sans rubbed his face with his hands and he took a candy bar out of his jacket. He munched on it, and his magic reserves filled halfway, enough to try to summon the _thing_ one last time.

Sans had to find a way to keep his bad emotions in check. Every time he had summoned the _thing_ it had been mainly out of fear. It wasn’t difficult to go back to the caged animal mindset he had had under the doctor’s hold, so evoking the _thing_ wasn’t actually the problem - Sans had just to give for a few seconds into the existential anguish that was always creeping at the back of his conscious mind, trying to get in, and then, **bam** , the _thing_ was there.

Sans hadn’t even had the chance to look at it properly, before it shot a white beam, draining him completely, and vanished into thin air. So, he didn’t know how the _thing_ truly looked, how it worked, if it had some kind of conscience, or anything like that.

But maybe… what if he had tried to focus on something good, for once? Associating his magic with more positive emotions could do the trick.

There weren’t many things that made Sans happy, right now, but the thought of the horrified expression on his brother’s face, if Papyrus had realized that Sans’ fantasies were a little more real than he had thought- avoiding that… was a great motivation. Sans didn’t want Papyrus to be scared of him. He had to control this, so he wouldn’t hurt his brother by mistake.

What if he had a nightmare that left him more scared than usual? What if he lost control around Papyrus, for whatever reason?

“i can’t… i can’t let that happen-“

Sans threw away the paper of the candy bar and pointed his feet in the snow. He closed his eye sockets for a moment, and he thought of his brother. Then, he tapped into his magic.

Sans felt that crushing wave of power going through him for a moment, overwhelming, all-consuming. Then, it materialized into the _thing_. Sans could sense its presence in front of him, menacing, and its heavy, cold breath.

Slowly, Sans opened his eye sockets, and he finally saw it clearly.

The _thing_ was a massive animal skull, looking as if it had belonged to a canine creature or to a snake, and it was staring down at Sans with a pair of burning blue eye lights, dancing like fires in its eye sockets. Its maw could have eaten a whole tree, and Sans suddenly became more aware than usual of how small he was.

“oh… heh… h-hello, i g-guess?”

The skull looked at him as if Sans had been a piece of garbage.

_wow, even my magic hates me. this is great._

Sans cleared his throat and tried to approach the thing, putting a hand in the air in order to pet it. The skull let out a warning growl, and Sans stopped halfway, hiding his hand in the coat.

“okay. no touching, i understand. you want your space.” The little skeleton sighed deeply and lowered his gaze, while he was gathering his thoughts. The thing seemed to have some kind of self-awareness, somehow. It was linked to Sans, so it wasn’t going to kill him… but it seemed like it could hurt him, suspicious as it was. It wasn’t completely evil… but it wasn’t good, either. It just felt cold, and merciless. Something whose sole purpose was to kill.

_in the end, he really did extract my worst side, didn’t he?_

That thought made Sans shrink on himself. The doctor - Gesper? Feller? His name was still too hazy in Sans’ memory – had tried to gnaw away all the tenderness in Sans’ soul, and his efforts did indeed amount to something, even though Fens… Gas… whatever his name was, wouldn’t probably have expected Sans to develop this kind of magic without some more hellish experiments.

Hesper did have something like this on his own, didn’t he? How did he call the things?

Fens… Faster? Blaster?

God! Why was it so hard? Sans hit his own forehead in frustration. “c’mon… c’mon, remember, you stupid, useless bonehead! it’s there, in your head, somewhere! i know it is!”

Sans was so busy insulting himself, that he hadn’t noticed the skull thing had gotten much closer to him, until its nasal cavity sniffed Sans’ hat.

Sans almost screamed, but- the _thing_ wasn’t trying to hurt him. It was still terrifying, with those two – no, three… and, jeez, maybe even four – rows of razor sharp teeth, but it wasn’t looking at Sans like he was a refusal of society anymore. It looked almost… apprehensive? After all, it was there to take care of him… take care of him in an extremely terrifying manner, but that didn’t change the core of its motivations. It was like some kind of grotesque guardian angel.

“heh… hehe… uhm… don’t worry, buddy. i’m alright. j-just a little… ya know… frustrated, here. i feel like i have a big hole in my brain, and i can’t remember how things went. i’m not even sure i didn’t make all this up. it’s… horrible, really. if only i could have some answers. and then- there’s also my magic, being all freaky.” Sans’ voice got progressively more and more flat, until he keeled over in the snow with a whimper.

He felt like all this was too big for him. Why did he have to get involved into that scientific crap with the doctor? Why did it have to be _him_ who remembered? Why did Fras… Ester… no… whatever! Why did the doctor have to inject Sans’ soul with that pink liquid? Did it contain… how was it called… _frustration_?

Yeah, it had to be frustration, because Sans was so done with all this, frustration had become his other main emotion, besides horror.

Sans was sobbing, not even trying to hide it, like he usually did when he was around Papyrus. The sentry selections were so close… and he hadn’t made any progress with his magic and his life in general, in the last month. He had only managed to exhaust himself further and make Papyrus worried sick.

If only Sans could’ve had some sort closure… if he only could’ve had the certainty that he hadn’t dreamed everything, it would’ve been better. But no. There wasn’t an absolute way to know if his brain – or lack thereof – had created all those memories. He just had to keep on living and try to not let Papyrus discover that maybe his brother was even more mentally ill than he thought. Sans’ horrifying nightmares… the sudden outbursts of emotion he had sometimes… the strange things he talked about when he couldn’t hold everything in anymore… and then, that soul-throwing scene he had pulled the other day too. Even though Papyrus had made peace with Sans’ sudden weirdness – because it had to be sudden for him, since he didn’t remember anything of the past -, Sans feared Papyrus wasn’t going to accept the true depths his madness reached.

For example, if he had known how guilty Sans felt for having caused the death of someone that, according to everyone, _hadn’t even existed_ , Papyrus would’ve surely left the house to go live somewhere safer, instead of sharing his roof with a psycho. And then, Sans’ magic had gotten so horrifying and twisted that, if his brother saw it instead of only imaging it from Sans’ incoherent descriptions, Papyrus would’ve just _ran_ for his life. He would’ve left Sans. And even though the little skeleton knew that it would’ve probably been for the better, he couldn’t bear the thought of living without Papyrus. It would’ve just crushed what was left of his soul.

“hhhhhrrrr.”

Sans opened his eye sockets and saw that the thing was now laying on the ground at his side. Its muzzle was digging in Sans’ ribs, as if… was… was the _thing_ trying to _comfort_ him?

The surprise was so great that Sans stared at it blankly for a while, forgetting even his many worries. He hesitated, and then lifted a hand. Even though his fingers were trembling, he petted the skull. His fear slowly melted, and he felt a little better. Petting the _thing_ was weirdly soothing to himself as well.

Sans mopped his eye sockets on his coat.

there’s no purpose in cryin’ my eyes out, anyways. ‘s never gonna get better, if i don’t do somethin’ about it. if i’m so scared for paps… then, i just have to stop bein’ such a wimp.

He couldn’t tell Papyrus all the things he thought about, but he could at least control the _thing_ better, now that it seemed a little more docile. Sans hadn’t any intentions of being a public danger. He already had enough things to worry about.

“i can’t let all this put me down. i hafta learn to control it… right, big guy?”

The thing seemed to be a little let displeased about its owner, and now, instead of looking at him like he was garbage, he had promoted Sans to the level of “pitiful insect”. Well, it was better than nothing.

“awesome. then… th-then, let’s try this again, together. and don’t try to kill me, please? when you shoot all that magic at once, it leaves me bone-tired, buddy. maybe… dose it up a little? ya don’t have to burn down the whole forest, k? we’re just practicin’, here.”

The thing rolled its eye lights, annoyed, but, the next time it shot, it followed Sans’ advice… at least, the first few times. Then, it blasted the whole forest, not even listening to the exasperated screams of its owner, until it made him completely run out of juice.

Sans face-planted in the snow.

_well… it would’ve been just too easy, if it had worked right away, huh?_

That was his last thought, before he allowed himself to sleep a while in the snow, hoping someone wouldn’t think that there was a really weird snowman on the road that lead towards the Ruins.

 

 

 

 FIRST PART - END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next work will talk about Sans as a Judge, going through other events of the past. I hope you'll like it :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you find any funny English, keep in mind that it isn't my mother language, even though I love it to death and use it a lot. Writing has only helped me get better. You will still find really amusing mistakes, like one I did in another chapter (instead of saying "a wall of molasses", I wrote"a whole of molasses", and then I was there trying to imagine someone moving through a... whole? That surely must be hard)! 
> 
> Thank you for reading, anyways, and let me know what you think, if you feel like leaving a comment!


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